The Other Side of the Looking Glass
by acetamide
Summary: When the Death Eaters strike 4 Privet Drive, James Antares joins Hogwarts to some unexpected happenings. What happens when a mysterious potion changes who Harry and Draco are? SLASH. Note: James is NOT an Own Character.
1. Ruminations

Welcome one and all to my new fic, Cherry Ghost. The title of which was decided on when listening to a song by Wilco. This is inspired by Princess Mononoke, and permission has been given by FireOpal to use bunnies from her Defence classes in this fic. Besides... I'm part of her inspiration for Defence lessons anyway... ;P

So here you go. Cherry ghost. SLASH. Wraned you more than once, not my fault if you keep reading when you don't want to.

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Harry Potter screwed his eyes up in an attempt to see further than his vision permitted. It didn't work, and the horizon came now clearer. Sighing, he slipped off the window sill and sat down on his bed. His Hogwarts letter lay almost forgotten on the floor, proudly proclaiming a Quidditch Captain badge and the OWL results he had been waiting for. The door was locked, a sliver of light shining at the bottom, revealing that his aunt and uncle were still awake. His trunk lay open at the bottom of his bed, clothes scattered over the floor and schoolbooks spilling out. His wand was clutched tightly in his hand, as it had been every night for the past four weeks.

The four weeks he had so far spent with his relatives in 4 Privet Drive had been almost as uneventful as he could have hoped. Uncle Vernon had taken Moody's warning to heart and allowed Harry to study and send Hedwig off with her letters. Well, allowed was possibly too strong a word – the large man simply didn't try to stop it happening. He scowled heavily at Harry whenever he saw him, but made no attempt to provoke him. Harry was glad, but it didn't help the aching hole left it the pit of his stomach.

He tried not to dwell on it as much as he could, avoiding the matter as much as humanly possible. But the fact still remained – Sirius was dead. And as much as his friends tried to convince him otherwise, he knew deep down that he was solely responsible for his godfather's death.

But he didn't want to think about that now.

He pushed the thoughts into the deepest recesses of his mind, blocking the feelings out beneath a shimmering layer of fire beneath which he hid all his deepest thoughts. He had begun this process at the start of the holidays, forming a place within his mind where he couldn't access the thought he placed there.

His OWL results lay on the floor, proclaiming his scores.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS 

_Pass Grades: Outstanding (O)Fail grades: Poor (P)_

_Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)_

_Acceptable (A) Troll (T)_

_HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:_

_Astronomy A_

_Care of Magical Creatures A_

_Charms E_

_Defence Against The Dark Arts O_

_Divination P_

_Herbology E_

_History Of Magic P_

_Potions O_

_Transfiguration O_

Overall he had been rather pleased with his results, and felt a ridiculously large pang of triumph when he saw the Outstanding for Potions. Ha, he couldn't wait to see the look on the greasy git's face when Harry turned up to his lessons next year.

He leapt to his feet again as he heard a faint flapping noise. Peering out of the window, he could vaguely see Hedwig flying back, something clutched in his her claws. His stomach feeling considerably lighter, he opened his window and allowed the owl to fly in, dropping the letter on his bed and landing on top of her cage. He ripped the letter open and began to read.

_Harry,_

_We're all fine here. Snape is still brewing the potion for Remus, why would you think otherwise? He looked slightly offended when I checked with him, but just ignore him._

_Hopefully Dumbledore will be able to arrange something soon for you to come here. It's been kind of empty without you, now Hermione and the Weasleys are here. I've come to expect you there when they are, and I'm always sort of disappointed when I don't see you come around the corner right behind them._

_Remember to write very three days, or we'll come after you. You know Moody's dying to take through his threat and half-slaughter that Uncle of yours. I wouldn't mind having a go myself, if you wouldn't be too offended._

_Love, Tonks_

Harry smiled affectionately at the bright pink scrawl on the parchment. She had drawn little pictures on the letter (no doubt with help from a few of the Weasley clan). There was a cartoon Snape looking furious as he handed a goblet to Lupin, who drunk it and grinned at the Potions Master. There was also one of Uncle Vernon looking terrified as Moody advanced upon him, eye rolling away. Harry couldn't help but laugh as Moody's hair changed colour to bright pink. Tonks always managed to make him laugh.

He stuffed the letter into one of his drawers along with the rest of them, content for the next two days before he had to write another one. He closed the window and kicked off his slippers, sliding into the bed. It was getting a bit small – Harry suspected it was smaller than a normal bed – but hopefully he wouldn't have to live here much longer.

Suddenly he sat up and got out of bed, shuffling through his trunk. He pulled out a lighter and a pack of Muggle cigarettes and lit one, opening the window again and leaning out of it. He smoked it as fast as he could, nearly choking with one over-enthusiastic drag. It was soon down to the filter and Harry stubbed it out on the window ledge before throwing it down to the garden below. He'd have to get up early in the morning to clear them up. There must be at least five down there in the soil already just from that night. He sighed and closed the window again, stowing the lighter back into the safe confines of his trunk until the next night.

He woke up next morning to an insistent banging on his door. Odd, he thought. They hadn't done that since the start of the holidays.

"Mmm," he managed, face still half-buried in the old pillow beneath his head.

"I said get up now! Get dressed and get down here this instance!" Aunt Petunia shrieked, and Harry heard her walk back down the landing and stomp down the stairs. Wondering vaguely what he had done this time, he crawled out of bed and let Hedwig out again. He leaned out of the window and blew out puffs of misty breath in the surprisingly cool August air. Then again, it had been generally colder since the Dementors had started prowling the streets at night. Harry sometimes watched them, knowing they couldn't harm him whilst he was in the house, but wary nevertheless.

He yawned widely and gazed down at the garden, then froze stock-still, not even breathing.

The cigarette ends were gone.

He started moving frantically, shoving his wand and cigarettes into his jeans as he pulled them on and yanked a T-shirt over his head, opening the door and practically leaping down the stairs. He knew from experience that the longer you made them wait, the worse it would be. He tried to make his hair behave as he approached the kitchen door, even though it was a lost cause, and taking a deep breath he opened the door.

"Good morning," he said a bit too brightly for the likes of his rather suspicious-looking Aunt. He looked around the room. "Good morning, Uncle Vernon," he said to the large man sat at the table. He went over to the sink to wash his hands.

Suddenly something hard struck him across the side of the head, making him fall to the side, nearly onto the floor, stars dancing before his eyes. He blinked the dizziness away and peered at his red-faced Uncle.

"How dare you!" Uncle Vernon raged. "How dare you smoke these… these _things_ in my house! These _wizard_ things, I bet they make people hallucinate and everything!" he was holding a plastic tray out, shaking it in front of Harry, the stubs of the fags rattling around on top of it. Harry supposed Aunt Petunia would probably have picked them up wearing rubber gloves and using a pair of tweezers, both of which would have been sterilised straight after.

"Up to your room and pack your stuff up now!" Vernon yelled, his face an alarming shade of purple. "NOW!" he bellowed when Harry didn't move. The skinny boy scrambled out of the kitchen and up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind himself. The first thing he did was go to Hedwig, who was devouring a mouse in her cage.

"Hedwig you have to go. The Dursleys are mad and I think they're going to try something. Take this note to Tonks." He said hurriedly, and scribbled a short note.

_In trouble. Don't know what they're going to do. Help._

He tied it to Hedwig's leg and she flew off without further ado. He watched her get smaller and smaller until she was out of sight, then turned and began throwing stuff into his trunk. In five minutes flat every last item was packed in, including the birthday cake he sill had left from the end of July that he hid under the floorboards. He was considering what to do with Hedwig's cage when the door burst open and Uncle Vernon, doing an absolutely wonderful impression of a beetroot, came storming in.

"That's it! You've had enough time! Leave that damn cage, you're coming with me!" he bellowed like an angry hippo. He grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him from the room and down the stairs. Harry felt a disturbingly comforting pang when he saw where they were going. It was only his cupboard. Vernon threw him in. "You stay right there or you're in trouble," he hissed vehemently and stormed back upstairs to fetch Harry's trunk, which soon came flying in as well. Harry yelped as it landed heavily on his foot, causing a spike of acute pain to shoot up his leg. Swearing, he hauled it into the corner. Vernon slammed the door shut and locked it about five times from the outside. He opened the small window and leered down at Harry.

"I think you'll find that all you need is right there," he said scathingly, then slammed the widow shut and Harry was left in darkness. He fumbled for the light switch and was pleased to see that it still worked. He peered into the far corner. There was a large red bucket and a large jug of water. Next to them was a plate with a few slices of bread on it.

Oh, fucking hell…

They were going to keep him here for the whole of the next two weeks.

By the second day Harry really needed to piss. And he smelled something awful. He pounded on the door as he heard someone walk by.

"Please! I need the toilet, and I need a shower! Please let me out!"

He was rewarded by the little grate slamming open and Vernon's bulging face squashing against it.

"I told you boy, you've got everything you need right there," the grate slammed shut again. Harry looked back in the corner. The jug was still three-quarters full, and he had eaten half of one of the slices of bread. It only just dawned on him what the red bucket was for.

Face burning with humiliation, he pulled it out of the corner, positioned himself over it and released his bladder. His face was bright red, even though there was nobody to see him, and it kept splashing out and landing on his blankets.

Great. Now he would be sleeping in piss.

He moved awkwardly to lie down. His foot still ached where the trunk had landed on him, and he was afraid that it might be sprained or broken.

By day four no help had arrived. Harry was becoming desperate. He couldn't smoke, his bucket was half full already, he'd finished the bread and most of his water had gone. Whenever he asked for more they would simply snarl and ignore him, saying he should have made what he had last. Well, at least he had enough time to study for school.

By the end of the first week, there was still no help. Harry was curled up in the corner, thirsty and starving. He needed a drink so badly, but the water had run out last night. He hadn't eaten for three days and it was beginning to take its toll on him. He licked his lips and tried to moisten his mouth with saliva. Damn it.

He was asleep when it began. But he woke soon enough

The explosions were enough to wake anyone, was his first thought. Even someone who's starving and emaciated.

He sniffed the air, and immediately choked on the fumes. He could smell burning – burning everything – and panicked. The house was on fire, and he was stuck. His hand disappeared under his blanket, seizing his wand and yanking it out.

"Alohomora!" he yelled, practically smacking his wand against the door. He tried to push it open but it wouldn't budge. He tried again but the result was the same. "Accio keys!" he tried, but nothing happened. He was about to attempt to transfigure the door into something else when he heard another incantation.

"MORSMORDRE!"

He froze. That's why he couldn't open the door – it would have been spelled shut. But then, they shouldn't be able to harm him. After all, the blood protection should ensure that. So why was he in this problem? He waited for someone to come and take him away to Hogwarts, or maybe even Grimmauld Place, to see all his friends. That would be the best option, he guessed. At least that way he'd be with people he knew.

He coughed to clear his throat, then found that he couldn't stop. The smoke from the fire was seeping in through the vent of the door, and was beginning to suffocate him. He lay down on his back, knowing that the smoke wouldn't settle to the floor. He closed his eyes, only once considering using his wand again. Someone would come soon enough. And if they didn't… well, he would go meet his mum and dad at last.

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I like reviews. They're nice. Please write some for me. I'll love you forever... PLEASE!

smokey2307


	2. Novella

Harry awoke to the smell of freshly baked bread and honey. He dragged his eyes open to stare up at a wooden ceiling, the beams dancing with light from a fire. Shuffling slightly, he realised that he was lying on what felt like a squashy sofa, but he couldn't be sure. He fumbled in his pocket, found his glasses, and pushed them onto his face. He turned his neck stiffly and was surprised to see none other than Albus Dumbledore sat in the chair opposite, reading "The Once And Future King". He looked up when Harry attempted to move into a sitting position.

"You're awake,"

Harry nodded and tried to swing his legs over, but found that he was too caught up in blankets and oddly stiff. He teetered on the edge of the sofa then fell off unceremoniously with a crunch.

"Ow,"

"Do be careful Harry," Dumbledore chided gently. Harry struggled upright and hauled himself back up onto the sofa, settling down with an annoyed look on his face.

"Where am I, and why aren't I dead?"

"You are in a village in Yorkshire. I have borrowed this cottage from its owners. You have been unconscious for a few days."

Harry waited for him to continue, and ground his teeth when it became apparent that he was going to have to keep prompting the Headmaster if he wanted to get any answers.

"Why don't I have any burns? Or lung damage, I was breathing smoke for quite a while."

"You have been healed, of course."

"Who rescued me?" he tried.

"Remus Lupin. The Death Eaters managed to find your house – someone told them the location – and set fire to it, casting a powerful charm to prevent you from escaping. I'm afraid you relatives all died, Harry, but Remus was able to Apparate in and bring you out, along with your trunk. I am trusting that you had no more possessions?"

"I took everything into the cupboard." Harry replied. He peered around the small cottage. "Where's Remus?"

"I am afraid that I had to wipe his memory after the event. You see Harry, this situation is most beneficial."

"How?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Harry, Voldemort thinks you're dead." Dumbledore said enthusiastically. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"And so?"

"That means that we have the upper hand. He will never be expecting you to kill him. He has heard the prophecy, Harry, and he knows that you are the only one who can kill him. With you dead, as far as he knows, nobody can kill him. It's perfect, Harry. Can't you see?"

"I don't get it. How does he know the prophecy?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Unfortunately, Professor Snape was forced to relay what information he knew. That included the content of the prophecy. But will you agree to lie low? To posing as a different person?"

Harry screwed up his face and stood, leaning on the windowsill and watching the rain as it poured down the window in rivulets. The storm was thundering against the stark heavens, flashes of light illuminating the countryside. He sighed heavily and turned back to Dumbledore.

"All right. I suppose."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed. "I must first cast a spell on your body, to change your appearance." He brandished shi wand, pointed it at Harry and muttered a spell. Harry closed his eyes, then changed his mind and opened them again, watching his body in a mirror on the far wall as it changed.

His hair grew longer, resting gently at the base of his neck and covering his ears. His eyes faded from vivid emerald to deep blue, his nose shortening somewhat. His scar faded into his forehead but two new ones were added, in a cross over his right eye. His ears shifted so they were slightly pointy. He shuffled slightly as he grew an extra four inches, and his thin form filled out, the muscles flexing beneath his slightly paler skin. His eyesight grew blurry and he took his glasses off, realising that he no longer needed them.

"I am afraid that parts of this spell may wear off in time, Harry. It will probably only last the best part of a few weeks. Come to me when you notice any changes. Unfortunately, as your scar was magically inflicted, all I could do was move it. I'm afraid I can't make it disappear completely. I suggest you pick a new name. Have you any suggestions at the moment?"

"James, I think, for my first name." Harry murmured. "My second name I'm not sure of though. Can I have some time to think about it?" he looked up at the Headmaster hopefully. The old man's eyes twinkled.

"Certainly. And I must say, a fine choice of name it is,"

"Thank you sir."

"Now, you must be rather tired. I have arranged for you to stay with a professor for the last week before returning to Hogwarts. Am I correct in guessing that you would prefer to be in Gryffindor?"

"Yes please, sir. Um, I've just thought… can my last name be Antares please?"

"By all means. Am I correct in guessing you understand the significance of that name?"

"No," Harry said, bewildered. "It just suddenly came to me,"

"No matter. Now, Gryffindor. The necessary arrangements will be made. But now, to you lodgings. I am afraid that you have to stay with Professor Snape, Harry. Ironic, and cliché, I know, but it will do you good. Remember that nobody is to know of this but you and I. I will inform you if I feel the need to tell anyone else. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry said with a sinking feeling. He was going to spend a week living with Snape…

"Have a sherbet lemon,"

Harry sullenly took the sweet from Dumbledore and felt a familiar jerk in his navel as the Portkey swept him away. He landed with a bump in a large room, furnished with mahogany chairs and marble floors. Snape came billowing into the room.

"Who are you?" he asked sharply, wand raised. Dumbledore appeared beside him with a pop.

"Calm, Severus. This is James Antares. He will be staying here for the remainder of the holidays, and attending Hogwarts when September comes. I do hope that will not be such a problem?"

There was a glint to Dumbledore's eyes that blatantly said 'It had _better_ not be a problem'. Snape grunted in assent.

"Excellent. Now, please show James to his rooms, and then I would like to have tea with you, it you will allow it?"

Snape grunted again and billowed back out of the room.

"It would be rather pointless to complain, wouldn't it?" Harry said glumly. Dumbledore nodded cheerfully.

"Be glad I didn't ask Mr. Filch, James. Now, follow Severus before he loses you. I am just a fireplace away if you need me, and you can talk in confidence in my office any time,"

Harry nodded, and levitated his trunk after Snape, his hopes of a fun last week left behind at the cottage in Yorkshire.

This was going to be the best week ever, he could just tell…

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I like reviews. They're nice. Please write some for me. I'll love you forever... PLEASE!

smokey2307


	3. Dumbledore's Holiday Plans

He had to jog to keep up with Snape's long strides as he stalked down the hall. It was a large house – probably a manor – and Harry would have got lost if he were left to his own devices. Snape suddenly stopped at a door and tapped the doorknob with his wand. It swung open to reveal another fairly large room. On the far wall was a four-poster bed with deep blue and silver covers, and alongside one wall was a bookcase. There was a desk and chair, and various other armchairs dotted about the open fireplace. A door inside led to the bathroom, with Harry could see was done up in marble.

"You will stay in these rooms for the next week. You will not come out unless I say so. I will lock you in. When you are hungry, Floo the kitchens and simply ask for food. I expect you to respect these rooms and I will be displeased if you leave them looking like a bombsite." He quirked an eyebrow at Harry's disbelieving gaze. "I am not a nice man, Antares. You will find that out from people at school within two minutes of setting foot into the castle,"

Harry nodded and lowered his head. He manoeuvred his trunk into the room. The door closed behind him with a click. He set his trunk down and removed his cloak. As he sat down on the bed, reality began to creep into his mind from the recesses of his subconscious.

Dead. They were all dead. Now, the blood protection was void. He had no safe haven (even if it was hardly a haven to begin with). They had never really cared for him, but still – they were relatives, and he refused to think ill of them.

And Sirius. Dead. That was his fault, certainly. If he hadn't been so big-headed and arrogant, if he had listened to Snape and actually _bothered_ to learn Occlumency rather than think he knew better, Sirius would be alive.

But 'if only' was a pointless phrase. He had no time-turner. He couldn't go back and convince himself to learn. He couldn't bring Sirius back, there was nothing else to it. Sirius was dead and he was staying that.

But knowing something doesn't make it any easier to accept.

Tears were running freely down his face by the time that he realised his face was wet. He growled and brushed at them furiously. Damn it.

Suddenly the door opened again. Harry started and blushed as Snape walked in. The last thing he wanted the man to see was him crying.

"Here," Snape said, holding out a blue potion. Harry stared at it. "Take it, boy," Harry didn't move.

"What is it?"

"Sleeping Draught. You may need it,"

Still Harry refused to touch it. Sighing angrily, Snape set it down on the bedside table. Harry stared up at him with shadowed eyes.

"We will be going to Diagon Alley on Tuesday to collect any supplies." He paused, as though he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to, Finally, he managed to get his tongue around the words. "Floo if you need anything," he said hastily, then closed the door again. Harry would have smirked had he not been so depressed. That was nice for Snape. Harry wondered vaguely what Dumbledore must have said to him.

He lay down on his bed, stretched out cat-like. His new body was definitely unnerving to say the least, but he supposed that he would get used to it. Closing his blue eyes, he considered running off. Well, he would have done, but Snape had so kindly decided to lock him in like a caged animal. Perhaps he could teach himself to Apparate? No, probably not. No doubt the manor would have anti-Appartion wards littered all over it, knowing Snape. And the windows were probably charmed shut. Harry growled and rolled over, climbing off the bed and crouching down next to his bag.

Rummaging through it, he found the pack of Muggle cigarettes – Benson and Hedge's – and shook one out, flicking his lighter open. Taking a long, satisfying drag on the cigarette, he moved over to the window and tried it. To his surprise, it opened, and he sat on the windowsill, one leg in, one out, staring out across the grounds.

An avenue of cherry trees led down the drive to the gates, which Harry could see were wrought iron – very typical. A small lake was over to the left, and a rose garden was partially visible behind a large oak tree. He couldn't see the boundary of the land, but the village was in sight, and it looked pleasant enough. He was contemplating taking his broom out for a spin when the door slammed open.

"Antares! Where's the fire?" Snape yelled urgently. Harry started and slipped off the sill, tumbling out of the window. He reached out and grabbed hold of the stone ledge, dropping the fag so he could use both hands. His arm scraped across the rough stone wall and he looked down, instantly regretting it. His fingers began to lose grip as one potions-stained, long-fingered hand grasped him by the wrist and hauled him back into the room.

He rolled unceremoniously onto the floor, shaking slightly. A pair of black boots stepped into view and Harry slowly raised his head to look nervously up at the furious face of the Potions Master.

"Care to explain yourself?" he said softly. Harry bit his lip.

"I was just getting some fresh air, sir."

"Then why did my smoke wards suddenly start screeching at me that there was a fire in these chambers?"

Harry grimaced.

"There wasn't a fire, it was… um… a cigarette."

"A what?" Snape asked irritably.

"A cigarette. Look." Harry stood and walked over to his bag, taking out a cigarette and showing it to Snape, who peered at it like it was a bottle of some unknown potion.

"What do you do with it?" he curled his lip.

Sighing, Harry lit it and took a wonderfully long drag, blowing the smoke out down to the left, careful to avoid Snape's robes. The Potions Master looked at him, interested.

"May I?" he asked, holding out a hand. Harry shrugged and handed him the joint. He placed it delicately in his mouth and sucked hard. He started coughing immediately, dropping the cigarette on the floor. Harry seized it straight away and looked cautiously at Snape, who was going red in the face.

"Have a drink of water."

Nodding, Snape conjured some water and gulped it down. Once he was recovered enough, he turned on Harry.

"What just happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"You just tried your first cigarette." Harry answered calmly, sticking it back in his own mouth. Snape seized it, dunking it in the glass of water, causing a small plume of steam to float out into the air. Harry glared at him crossly.

"That won't be easy to re-light, you know."

"Did you know that this will not be tolerated once you arrive at Hogwarts? If you continue with this disgusting habit, I shall have to inform the other teachers."

Harry scowled.

"You can't prove anything."

"You forget. I'm a Potions Master."

Snape swept out of the room, leaving behind a particularly irritated Harry Potter.

After several hours of investigating every nook and cranny of the rooms he was in, he managed to find something that would probably be very useful. Behind the desk, right in the corner, he found that the carpet was loose. After careful prodding and muttered obscenities, the small panel near the floor had slid back to reveal a passage that automatically illuminated when he opened the door. With a glance over his shoulder for no reason, he crawled into the space, once through, he heard the door slide shut behind him.

He crawled continuously for a good five minutes, meeting various junctions and quite a few areas where the passage was higher and much wider and he could turn around. Suddenly he came to what looked like a similar door to that which he had come through. Pushing gently, the panel slid open.

"You don't understand. I have no choice."

Snape's voice came from somewhere above him; twisting his head around, Harry could see that he was in what he presumed was the library. The panel had slid back between two bookcases, and Harry could see Snape's feet under the shelving, along with another pair.

"He will not be pleased, Severus."

Lucius Malfoy.

"I just said I have no choice! Dumbledore has foisted him upon me. But don't worry. He's only here for the week. But on to other matters. Is the meeting ready for next year?"

"Everything has been sorted out. Hopefully there will be no glitches, but nothing can be guaranteed. I trust you are faring well?"

"Yes, thank you Lucius. Our escapade earlier left me slightly tired, but I am now fully recovered. Now, if you would excuse me a feel that I should probably go and check on the brat to make sure he hasn't killed himself or anything like that."

Harry shuffled backwards down the passage and used Point Me to get back to his rooms, heart thumping wildly in his chest. As he straightened and dusted off his clothes, Snape knocked on the door.

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Sorry this took so long, I was kind of busy. OK then, this fic will hopefully be updated once a week, maybe more often if I get enthusiastic - I have up to Christmas written, it's just being tweaked.

Reviews are nice. Please tell me what you think, otherwise I'll have no clue!

I'll love you forever...

Oh yeah FireOpal claims copyright on the title, peeps.

smokey


	4. Reintroductions

By the time Tuesday came around, Harry hadn't eaten a thing. He refused to Floo the house-elves, despite Snape continually ordering him too, and had locked himself in his room. He spent a good part of each morning just crying, then cried himself to sleep on a night.

"Antares if you don't come you won't have to correct equipment for Hogwarts, and I do not wish to leave you here alone for too long,"

"No!" Harry yelled into his pillow. There was another shudder as Snape tried to blast his locking charms again. He heard the man curse softly before trying again.

"Please, James."

Harry was so shocked at the sudden change of tone that he forgot to refuse.

"Come on, you need to come."

Slowly he disentangled himself from the blankets he was curled under and took out his wand. He tapped the doorknob a few times and it sprang open to reveal a stern looking Potions Master.

"Get ready. We're leaving in ten minutes. I expect you in the Entrance foyer in that amount of time or I will come looking for you. You are coming to Diagon Alley whether you like it or not."

Harry muttered something and turned away. He walked over to his bed and pulled his pyjama top off over his head.

"Have you been eating?" Snape said suspiciously from the doorway. Harry winced.

"I don't eat much," he replied. He turned to see Snape regarding his body warily. Harry looked down at himself. What had been turned to muscle in Dumbledore's transformation was beginning to waste away. He blushed.

"You should eat more. I expect those muscles back by Friday," Snape reprimanded before billowing away. Harry bit his lip in annoyance, but got ready all the same.

Quite pleased with himself for getting to the Entrance foyer with only three wrong turns, Harry sat on the floor, patiently waiting for Snape to appear. He strode into the room after a few minutes and motioned for Harry to stand. They walked out of the manor in silence and down the drive to the gates. Snape stopped outside and pulled Harry over to the side.

"Am I correct in assuming you cannot Apparate?"

"Yes,"

"Brilliant." He muttered. "Come here,"

Harry stepped backwards.

"I need to absorb the shock of Apparating. I need to be touching you anyway, but you'll be sick if I don't absorb it," he said exasperatedly. "Come here,"

Harry stepped towards him warily, and once he was close enough Snape grabbed him and held him against his chest. Harry started to squirm away, but before he could get away the world seemed to melt around him, and suddenly he was standing at the entrance to Diagon Alley. He pushed himself out of Snape's arms and stumbled backwards. Snape raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"Meet me back here in two hours. Here is your list," he handed a piece of parchment to Harry. He billowed away, leaving Harry to mutter to himself.

The first thing he did was to take more money out of his vault. He passed many people he knew on the way there, but had to catch himself before he tried communicating with them. After all, they wouldn't recognise him in any way. Leaving Gringotts with an extra five hundred Galleons, he went into the first shop he saw – Quality Quidditch Supplies. He needed a new broom – Ron would definitely recognise his Firebolt. As he stepped into the shop he noticed Ron in the far corner fawning over a broom that looked pretty special. He walked over to him.

"Hey. Is that the latest model?" he asked. Ron looked up, surprised, his eyes glittering happily.

"Sure is. The Firebolt 42. State-of-the-art, made of mahogany, with ash tail, and it's got all the features of the original Firebolt plus more!" he said enthusiastically. But then his face fell. "I can't afford it though, it's two hundred Galleons. I've only got an old Cleansweep Seven,"

"Someone may get you a better one for your birthday," Harry suggested. Ron laughed hollowly.

"Not likely," he snorted. "I'm Ron Weasley, by the way!" he said brightly, sticking his hand out.

"James Antares," Harry shook his hand.

"That's my mum, over there, and my sister, Ginny…" he pointed out Molly and Ginny on the other side of the shop. Harry feigned ignorance.

"So you've only got the sister?"

"Oh no, I've got five older brothers too. Bill – the oldest – is working as a curse-breaker for Gringotts, Charlie is working with dragons in Romania, Percy's a prat and he works at the Ministry, and then there's Fred and George. They're twins, and they were the best pranksters Hogwarts ever had. They own the new joke-shop at the other end of the Alley," he puffed his chest out a bit at this. "I get discounts,"

Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"So are you coming to Hogwarts this year?" Ron asked as they left the shop. Harry nodded. "Do you know what house you're going to be in? Every single Weasley has been in Gryffindor so far,"

"Dumbledore came to see me over the summer, he says I'll be a Gryffindor,"

"Excellent! My girlfriend's in Gryffindor, so's my best - " he stopped abruptly and looked down. Harry frowned.

"Go on," he said. Ron blushed.

"I was going to say my best friend's in Gryffindor too, but he's not any more. He died over the summer," Ron mumbled. "His house caught fire and he was locked under the stairs. He couldn't get out and he didn't have his wand or anything,"

Harry was shocked to see a tear forming in the corner of Ron's eye.

"Has it been in the news?" he asked. Ron nodded.

"I'm surprised you haven't seen anything."

"Snape doesn't get the paper," Harry said without thinking, then immediately regretted it. Ron's eyes were popping out of his sockets.

"Snape?"

"Yeah, Dumbledore's making me stay with him for the last week of the holidays. My parents were killed by Voldemort not long ago."

"I pity you. As does the rest of the school. He's the biggest bastard you'll ever meet. You're not taking Potions are you?"

"Not sure actually," Harry consulted his list, and sure enough, the necessary equipment for Potions was there in green ink. "Yeah, I am,"

"You poor bugger. I dropped it after fifth year,"

"What subjects are you taking then?"

"Transfiguration, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures and Defence Against the Dark Arts. You?"

"Erm… Potions, Transfiguration, Defence, and Charms,"

"Great, that's two lessons we've got together. Come on, let's get our stuff for Charms and Defence,"

They spent fifteen minutes collecting various books for the lessons, and were sat eating ice creams when an all too familiar voice interrupted their chatter.

"Ron!"

They both turned to see Hermione running towards them. Ron grinned and stood to hug her. She sat down on the other side of Ron.

"This is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger. She's the best witch in our year." Hermione blushed. "Hermione, this is James Antares. He's starting new this year."

"Hi!" Hermione said brightly. "Which subjects are you taking?"

Ron groaned, and Harry laughed.

"Potions, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence,"

"Excellent, I'll be seeing you in some of those."

Harry excused himself from them and went to the apothecary to find his Potions equipment.

He left the shop ten minutes later with the basic Potions ingredients, plus some extras, a set of brand new crystal phials and a solid silver cauldron. He checked his watch. He had three quarters of an hour left. Checking Ron had gone, he scurried back into the Quidditch shop and bought a Firebolt 42 as quickly as possible. A few heads turned at the sight of a sixteen-year-old getting flustered because he wanted nobody to know what he had just bought.

He realised as he walked out of the shop that he needed some new robes. The extra four inches meant his old ones would no longer fit him. He struggled into Madam Malkin's with all his clutter and dropped it on the floor to one side. Madam Malkin swept him to stand on a stool, next to another boy. Harry turned to see who it was and burst out laughing, so hard that he fell off his stool.

"What's so funny?" Malfoy snapped, but Harry was too hysterical to reply. Madam Malkin frowned down at him.

"If you're going to behave like a little boy you can wait until you've calmed down." She said sternly. Harry tried to pull his face straight and stood back up onto the stool. Malfoy scowled at him.

"Sorry, I've been like this all day. I ate some Muggle sweet and it's made me go hyper," he lied, grinning. Malfoy looked satisfied enough. Harry couldn't help but giggle though. The whole situation was just hilarious. So ironic.

"So how come I haven't seen you around then?" he asked.

"I'm new. I'm only starting this year. I'm going to be in Gryffindor,"

"Pity. Gryffindors are all fools."

Harry bristled slightly but ignored the comment.

"So do you play Quidditch?"

"Yeah, Seeker,"

"Gryffindor could use one. Their last one died this summer,"

"You sound as though you weren't friendly with him," Harry attempted. Malfoy snorted.

"You could say that. I didn't hate him though, contrary to what I said or what people think. I was just a bit jealous, I guess."

This time Harry fell of the stool in shock.

"Really, if you can't stand still you're not going to be getting any robes!" Malkin said crossly. Harry mumbled an apology and stepped back up. It was hardly like Malfoy to be that open and honest.

"I suppose you'll end up making friends with the Mudblood and the Weasel then, won't you?" Malfoy sneered. Harry bristled again.

"Yeah, actually, I already have. I'd appreciate it if you didn't call them that."

Malfoy was frowning at him.

"What?"

"I could have sworn your voice reminded me of someone then. Never mind. You just remind me of Potter a bit. I think you and he would have been friends."

"Yeah, well… I'll never find out, will I?"

"Pity. I think he would have liked you."

"What's your name then?" Harry changed the subject.

"Draco Malfoy."

"James Antares. How much do you know about Snape?"

"Only that he's my godfather and I've known him since I was god knows how old. Plus he hates Gryffindors. Why do you ask?"

"Because Ron says he's a complete bastard, but he doesn't seem that bad."

"Met him already, have you?"

"Yeah, kind of, I'm staying with him for the last week of the holidays."

Malfoy smirked.

"Lucky you,"

"Right, you're all done now," Malkin said, straightening up. Harry stepped off the stool and bought some new casual robes in faded denim before leaving the shop. He suddenly slapped his head. He needed a new wand. He hurried over to Ollivander's as fast as he could with all his baggage and dumped it on the floor.

"Hello," said the man in his eerie voice from behind the counter. "Are you needing a new wand?"

"Yes," Harry said breathlessly. Then suddenly his stomach dropped to settle somewhere in his boots alongside his toes. The only wand that would work for him was his old one, but he couldn't use it, someone would recognise it…

"Here. Holly and dragon's heartstring,"

Harry swished, to no avail.

"Ash and phoenix tail feather.

"Cherry and unicorn tail hair.

"Yew and unicorn tail hair.

After five minutes, Harry was becoming desperate.

"Have you got any without a core in? Just the wand, I'll do the core myself."

Ollivander looked dubious, but reached under the counter and brought out several boxes.

"Are you wanting any particular wood?"

"Erm… have you got any holly ones?"

"Certainly. Ranging from ten to sixteen inches,"

"Can I have a twelve-inch one please?"

"I should think so. Here you go,"

He handed Harry a fairly long, dark brown wand that felt oddly light beneath his fingers. He paid ten Galleons for it and gathered his belongings before stepping out onto the street.

He checked his watch again. Five minutes. He gazed around the shops, looking for something interesting to buy. His eyes landed on a shop he had never been in before. Leaving his purchases on the floor and charming them against thieves, he entered the shop.

It was a jewellers, and many aristocratic witches were peering down their noses at diamonds and other various objects. Harry scanned the room. He spotted a dog tag on the counter and went up to the witch.

"Can those be engraved?" he asked.

"Yes, or cut out, whichever you prefer."

"I'll just have it engraved please."

"Write down what you want then, and I'll have it done in few minutes."

Harry grabbed the parchment and wrote down two letters: HP

"Is that all?"

"Yes please."

"Just wait there then,"

Harry sat on a chair and waited impatiently for her to engrave it. He was positively squirming by the time she called him back to pay.

"Twelve Galleons please."

He hurriedly emptied the money into her hand and ran out of the shop, stuffing the dog tag down his robes. He unlocked his clutter and struggled with it to the entrance to the Alley, where Snape was waiting impatiently.

"You're late," he snapped.

"Only by a minute!" Harry protested.

"You're still late,"

This time Harry didn't object when Snape drew him in to Apparate them back to his manor.

* * *

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	5. The Phoenix and The Feast

The next time Dumbledore visited, was the morning he was set to return to Hogwarts. He came to Harry's bedroom, a twinkle in his eye.

"Come with me, James. I have a gift for you. A birthday present, if you will. I think you'll like it,"

Curious, Harry got up from where he'd been reading a Defence book and followed his Headmaster down a corridor to a room he hadn't been into before. Dumbledore held the door open for him and closed it behind him. Harry looked around. He couldn't see anything. Suddenly Dumbledore clapped his hands together.

There was a burst of flames in the centre of the room near the ceiling and a magnificent phoenix soared through the air towards him. He landed on his shoulder and peered at him through black eyes. At first Harry thought it was Fawkes, but then he noticed the darker red colouring and slightly larger wings, and the brighter gold that shimmered in his wings.

"As you can no longer use Hedwig, I thought you might be needing a new pet."

"But… sir, we're not allowed phoenixes as pets, just cats, owls and toads."

"You should know by now that the rules do not always apply to you, James," Dumbledore twinkled. "Are you going to name him?"

"Yeah, sure…" he thought for a while. "Um… Cicatrix. I think,"

"Well chosen. I think you'll find that he does not need a cage or anything like that, he is completely self-sufficient, though extremely loyal. He will have a burning day every so often, once every two months I believe, and for that time he will have to stay in your dorm and you will need to feed him, but other than that you shouldn't have to."

"What do I feed him?"

"Dragon's liver,"

"But… I haven't got any!"

"Don't worry, I didn't think you would, so I brought some along. You can buy it at Hogsmeade too, so you should be fine. Don't look so worried. I'm sure he'll be an excellent friend,"

"But, what do I say when the others ask about him?"

"Tell them the truth. That I gave you him,"

"Ok, if you say so…"

"It will be fine. But I must warn you, you will be treated in a different way to that which you are accustomed. You are no longer The Boy Who Lived. You are simply a new student. And the charm will wear off after the first few weeks. It should hopefully be a welcome break from the attention you have had forced upon you in your previous years. But now you know what the teachers expect of you, I am sure you will be able to manipulate your way into their good conscience straight away. I will be seeing you this evening. Remember, James."

"Yes sir," Harry replied humbly. Dumbledore handed him a sack of what he supposed was dragon's liver and twinkled to him before leaving him alone with Cicatrix.

Snape gave him a Portkey to Platform Nine and Three Quarters at eleven later that morning. He weaved in amongst the students milling around, and was shocked at the dismay he felt when nobody at all called out to greet him. He did get many weird looks, of course, for two reasons – one, he was new, and two, there was a large, beautiful phoenix sitting on his shoulder, black eyes scanning the crowd. He was grateful to finally get a compartment and close the door, away from prying eyes. He hauled his trunk up into the overhead and settled with Cicatrix on his lap, occasionally feeding him titbits of dragon's liver. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as Cicatrix began a phoenix song to lull him to sleep. He was drifting off when the door banged open and Ron and Hermione came bursting open in a whirl of greetings and hugs. Harry dragged open his eyes and found that Cicatrix had disappeared.

"Where did he go?" he said desperately, immediately awake.

"Who?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowed.

"Cicatrix. He was here a second ago, he was sending me to sleep…"

"Oh," Hermione said, and blushed. "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked tentatively. Harry stared at her for a while, and blinked a few times before bursting out laughing.

"No, he's my… pet." Ron joined in the laughter too, and Hermione blushed even harder. "Cicatrix! Where've you gone?" Harry called. He was rewarded with the haunting notes of a phoenix song.

"James… that's a phoenix song," Hermione breathed. As she spoke, Cicatrix came soaring through the door to settle on Harry's lap. Ron and Hermione stared at him in awe.

"Wow," they said, almost in unison.

"Where did you get him?" Ron asked, astounded.

"Dumbledore gave him to me,"

He took out his wand to close the door when he realised that it still had no core.

"Crap!" he swore. Hermione looked slightly affronted. "Sorry, it's just… my wand hasn't got a core in it. I forgot about it."

"You can do it now, I should think it's allowed."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, surprised. She nodded.

"OK then… Cicatrix, do you mind?" he asked his phoenix. A single feather dropped gracefully from his tail onto the seat. He took out his wand and Hermione opened it with a quick charm. He laid the feather in the space, and was about to close it when he had another idea. He looked down at his pet. "Will you cry for me?" he asked, almost apologetically. Cicatrix gazed at him for a moment before lowering his plumed head to the wand. Three silvery tears leaked out of his eye into the gap. They sparkled there. Harry fumbled in his pocket.

"What are you getting now?" Ron asked. Harry pulled a penknife from his pocket and, before anyone could stop him, dug it into the palm of his hand. Ron yelled and Hermione screamed.

"James, what are you doing?" she shrieked. Harry allowed a few drops of blood to seep into the wand before he closed it, and grabbed Hermione's wand to seal it himself. For a few seconds it froze over with ice, but then a flame shot down it starting at the tip which melted all the ice off. Harry yanked the blade from his palm and more blood gushed out. He grasped his own wand and healed it. The skin stitched together seamlessly, and the whole process was followed by silence.

"Merlin's balls…" Ron whispered. Hermione smacked him on the arms. Harry handed her wand back and smiled gratefully.

"Thank you," he said brightly. He looked out of the window. "We ought to get changed into our robes. We'll be there soon, and I don't fancy our chances if Snape catches us wearing Muggle clothes."

Ron and Hermione stared at him.

"For a second there, you sounded as though you could have been here all the time! How do you know how Snape would react?"

Harry blushed, furious with himself for accidentally slipping.

"Just guessing,"

"He's right though," Hermione said. "We should get changed,"

Ron nodded and hauled their trunks down from the overhead. Harry tugged off his top and pulled his robes on over his T-shirt and jeans. They were just the right length, just covering his black rock boots and the sleeves to the tips of his fingers. The gold and maroon trimmings shone out at him in the fading light, and Harry frowned.

"They've been turned into Gryffindor robes in my trunk," he said, puzzled, then laughed. "Dumbledore," he said happily, whilst Ron and Hermione shot him odd looks.

"Hi!" said someone from the doorway, and Harry turned to see Ginny and Luna Lovegood standing, already changed. Ginny noticed him and frowned. "Who's that?"

"This is James Antares. James, this is my sister, Ginny, and Loony – sorry Luna – Lovegood. They're in the year below us,"

"Pleased to meet you," Harry said and offered his hand. Ginny took it dubiously.

"You sound familiar… almost like Harry," she said sadly.

Harry couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable tension that settled over the compartment. Hermione bit her lip and looked at her hands, Ron suddenly decided that the ceiling was extremely interesting, Ginny let out a small sound like a whimper and shuffled slightly, and Luna was just Luna. Luckily, he didn't have to endure it long as the train suddenly jolted to a stop in the Hogsmeade station. Harry turned to Cicatrix.

"Follow the house-elves who take our stuff up to our dorms. I'll see you there this evening he said, and offered some meat to the phoenix. Cicatrix ate it quickly, and let out a single note that helped Harry calm his nerves.

"We'll take you to meet Hagrid tomorrow," Ron said with forced enthusiasm as they walked past him, earning a big wave. Harry reached out to touch one of the Thestrals waiting patiently to pull the carriages up to the castle. He stroked the silky mane, but pulled his hand away sharply when Ron started gawping at him.

"Can you see them?" Hermione asked, awe-struck. Harry nodded sheepishly. Hermione looked half sympathetic, half impressed. Ron just shook his head and climbed into the carriage.

"I wonder who'll be Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year?" Hermione pondered as the carriages rumbled up the road to the castle. Harry grinned when he saw her fingers entwined with Ron's on the seat between them.

"Lupin, I think," he replied. "I heard Snape and Dumbledore talking a few days ago. Snape doesn't seem to like the idea," he added for good measure.

"Oh, he hates him," Ron said matter-of-factly. "They've hated each other since they were at school. You might want to know, Lupin's a werewolf. The Slytherins always laugh at him for it, but he's a really good teacher."

"Cool," Harry said, and peered out of the window. He could see the pinpricks of light that were the lights attached to the small boats which contained first years as the glided across the lake. He turned to see Hermione peering at him closely. He blushed.

"What?"

"How did you get that scar?" she asked, intrigued. Ron kicked her gently as a reprimand.

"That's rude," he muttered. Harry laughed.

"No, it's fine, I don't mind." He tried to appear calm on the outside, but inside he had turned to ice. He hadn't a clue why he had the scars. They were weird, he had to admit. But how did he get them?

"James?"

"Huh? Oh… sorry, right, yeah, um… they're from when I was little. I don't remember how I got them," he lied again. Damn. He hated lying to his friends so much. The carriages stopped and they climbed out, walking up the steps into the Entrance Hall. They turned right through the massive oak doors into the Great Hall.

The House tables were done out in the house colours, and Harry couldn't help but look up to the teacher's table. Snape was watching him, but looked away, apparently slightly flustered as Harry met his gaze. Smirking inwardly, he turned to the Slytherin table. Malfoy was giving him an odd look. He stared shrewdly at Harry for a few seconds before glancing at Snape then back at Harry. Harry flushed slightly and hurried to sit down between Ron and Seamus.

"Who're you?" Seamus asked jovially. Harry groaned. He suddenly realised that he was going to have to put up with a lot of this. He allowed Ron to explain, and waited impatiently for the Sorting to commence. Just as the hat was about to start singing, the low, mournful song of a phoenix came leaking into the room. Every head turned and stared as Cicatrix swept majestically into the Hall and soared over to Harry, who resembled a beetroot. The phoenix landed on the table before him, looking pleased with himself, still singing.

"I told you to go up to the dorms!" he hissed furiously, all to aware that everyone was staring at him. Cicatrix merely trilled happily then fell silent. Harry went even deeper red and gently smacked the phoenix's beak. Cicatrix ignored him and settled on the table in front of him. McGonagall cleared her throat, glaring sternly at him, and re-began the Sorting. Harry buried his head in his hands, wishing the Sorting over and Dumbledore to begin speaking.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" he said after five more minutes, his voice rumbling across the Hall. "Welcome to a new year, and a new beginning. But, I am sure that you will all be more likely to listen to an old man's drivel once your stomachs are sated, so let the feast begin!"

He clapped his hands and plates erupted over the tables. Harry grimaced as the plates left a space around his phoenix.

"You're not getting away with this, you know," he growled. Cicatrix looked completely at ease, and reached out to snatch a piece of pork from Harry's beak. Harry tapped him sharply on the beak. "If you're not going to go to the dormitory, you could at least behave," he said coldly. Cicatrix looked repentant, and Harry started to devour his meal.

He listened to his housemates chatter amiably around him, and risked another glance up at the teacher's table. Snape was watching him again. Before he could send the Potions Master a puzzled look, however, he had looked away, staring at the Slytherin table. Harry followed his gaze and caught Malfoy's eyes as the blond shot both him and Snape another confused glance. Ignoring the two of them, Harry scanned the top table again. Indeed, there was Lupin sitting talking to McGonagall. He looked a little rough. Perhaps the full moon was approaching.

Harry finished eating and gazed up at the ceiling. The stars twinkled gently, not unlike Albus, and a cloud drifted over the moon. Harry noticed that it wasn't anywhere near the full moon. Why then was Lupin so unwell?

He blinked as a gentle ticking sounded. Bewildered, he glanced to Dumbledore, and sure enough the man was tapping his spoon against his goblet to call for silence. It fell immediately,

"Now you are all full and comfortable, I shall begin my speech." He said warmly. "Feel free to fall asleep, however I must ask that you do not snore too loudly,"

This earned a few laughs from the Gryffindors, but scowls from the Slytherins. Cicatrix suddenly recognised Dumbledore's voice and stood up, singing out. Everybody stared at Harry, who blushed again and clamped a hand over Cicatrix's beak.

"Shut up. I said behave!" he snarled. Cicatrix tried to squawk but his beak was held firmly. "Shut up! Just let him finish his speech so I can take you upstairs!" he hissed. The phoenix grumbled a bit more before settling down. Dumbledore cast Harry an amused look before continuing.

"I would like to introduce the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lupin, who is returning to us this year after a few years break. I trust nobody will mock his state of being," he said, with a stern glance over at the Slytherin table.

"First years should note that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students. Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that magic is not allowed in the corridors, and he has added even more objects to his list. Quidditch trials will be organised by the Quidditch captains of each House. First years are not permitted to play Quidditch.

"Now, I must ask you to indulge in a few minutes silence in remembrance of a person who will be sorely missed," he glanced at the confused faces that were scattered about the Hall. "For those of you who were unaware, I am sad to inform you that over the summer, Harry Potter died. His house was set on fire by a group of Death Eaters and he could not get out. May his soul find peace," he murmured, and bowed his head.

The rest of the school immediately followed suit, apart from Harry, who gazed out over the heads and held back a tear that threatened to form in the corner of his eye. _They were doing this for me. They truly are sad that I died…But that's not what I want, I don't want their pity, and I never did do… I don't want all the attention…_

He fumbled in the front of his robes for the dog tag and looked it over. He would have to make sure nobody else saw this. Looking up at the teacher's table, he was shocked to see Snape staring at him once again. He frowned, his mouth twitching down. Snape gazed at him blankly for a few seconds before bowing his head. Harry suddenly felt compelled to follow suit. He stared at the table and pushed his dog tag back into his robes, waiting for the rest of the Hall to break out of its reverie.

The common room was not the place Harry knew it to be. The whole place was cast with a sombre atmosphere that seemed to dim the torches that should have been burning brightly on the walls, and the fire, which should have warmed the room, did nothing to raise the temperatures. Once again, McGonagall called a minute's silence before sending them off to bed in a choked voice. For once, nobody protested.

Harry lay in his four-poster, Cicatrix on his perch that Dumbledore had generously provided the room with. He couldn't hear Neville snoring, so guessed the other boy must be awake.

"Neville? You all right?"

"You're awake?" Neville said.

"Hey," came Seamus's voice.

"Are we all awake?" asked Dean.

"Guess so," finished Ron. "Um, James?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you, er, I mean, would you…"

"Spit it out," Dean grumbled.

"Shut up. I meant, could you ask your phoenix to, er… sing for us? It might help us sleep," he sounded almost apologetic. Harry grinned in the dark in spite of himself.

"Sure." He pulled back to hangings to look at his phoenix. "Will you send us to sleep please?" he asked. "I'll forgive you for that stunt at the feast if you do," he added.

Cicatrix immediately began a slow song that made Harry's eyes droop.

"Thanks James," Ron mumbled from across the room. Harry closed the hangings again and lay back, the phoenix song washing over him, allowing him to rest in peace.

* * *

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	6. Defence Against The Dark Arts

"Get up! You'll be late!" Ron shouted, throwing a pillow at Harry. He groaned and rolled over, misjudged the distance to the edge of the bed and landed hard on the floor. He swore softly and tried to disentangle himself from the blankets he managed to get completely wrapped up in overnight. After a few attempts he gave in, and Ron collapsed on his bed in a fit of giggles.

"Shut up," Harry grumbled, still half asleep. Ron choked on his laughter and helped his new housemate up. "I want a shower, so I'll see you at breakfast," Harry said, yawning hugely.

"You sure you know the way down by yourself?" Ron asked.

"I'll be fine. I'll ask a portrait if I get lost,"

Ron chuckled and left him to it.

As he sat down at breakfast the first thing he noticed was that Snape wasn't there.

"Does Snape not eat with the other teachers?" he asked, feigning innocence yet again as he reached for a crumpet.

"No, not usually. He hardly ever does." He cast Harry a suspicious look . "You're a bit obsessive over him you know,"

"It's just that he's so different out of school," Harry replied, taking a bite out of his crumpet. He poured himself some pumpkin juice and dug his timetable out of his bag. "Defence first," he said and swallowed the mouthful of crumpet. "You do Defence, don't you?" he looked over at Ron's timetable.

"I do," Hermione said from Ron's other side where she was spreading jam on her toast. "I think I have most f the same lessons as you, but I'm taking others as well,"

"Post," Ron said into his porridge, confusing Harry for a moment before he realised he meant the owl post had arrived. He looked up expectantly, searching for Cicatrix. However by the time the last owl had dropped its package, he hadn't appeared. Harry reached for his pumpkin juice and almost yelped when a burst of flames erupted in the middle of the Hall. Cicatrix soared over to him and dropped a letter on his lap, then settled on his shoulder and stuck his beak into the goblet Harry was holding.

"You just love to make an entrance, don't you?" Harry grumbled, and Cicatrix nipped his ear gently. Sighing, he opened his letter with his knife and read the letter.

_James,_

_I would be delighted should you grace me with your presence this evening at six o'clock for us to review the first day. I trust you know the way._

_Albus Dumbledore_

He managed to get through Defence without any major mishaps, and when he collapsed in the common room at lunch he was immediately accosted by Parvati and Lavender, who sat down either side of him, staring in awe. Harry shifted uncomfortably

"Hi…" he began.

"You know, you're really interesting," Parvati said earnestly.

"Um… thanks…"

"Professor Trelawney said that you're special," Lavender said matter-of-factly.

"Her exact words were 'the one who is late will be revealed before long'. We think she was talking about your special powers,"

"Yeah, well, Trelawney's an old bat, isn't she?" Harry mumbled, dread rising in his stomach. They were going to find out, and then the whole plan would be ruined.

"Don't listen to them," Ron said, following the two girls into the common room. "They hero-worship old Trelawney, but she's just a quack. Don't believe anything she says," Lavender and Parvati scowled at the redhead before scampering away to scheme in the corner, every now and then sneaking conspiratorial glances over at them.

"Do you want to go play Quidditch?" Harry asked Ron.

"I don't know… I have the trials to sort out, you know, being captain and all," he thrust his chest out importantly, the badge glinting in the light. A badge that had not long ago belonged to Harry, for just a few weeks, "but yeah, I don't see why not. I'll go get the balls, and meet you down there."

Harry nodded and leaped up the dormitory steps three at a time to fetch his new broom. He tugged it out of his trunk, and reminded himself to ask Dumbledore about his Firebolt when he saw him that afternoon. He carried his broom over his shoulder down across the Entrance Hall.

"Is that a Firebolt 42?" asked a drawling voice behind him. Steeling himself, he turned to face Malfoy and his crones.

"Yes, it is. What about it?" he bit back. Malfoy sneered.

"Just wondering." And with that he turned his back and sauntered off. Frowning, Harry continued his path down to the pitch. He had a few minutes before Ron would be out to meet him, and wanted to get at least one go with the broom in before Ron arrived.

He let it go in the air and it hovered perfectly still. He straddled it, utterly, perfectly still. No sooner than he leaned forward he shot off. His stomach dropped several feet behind him and she was sure that if he let go he would fly a hundred miles on his own. An invisible field protected him from dust and inertia. Wind whistled past, yanking his T-shirt and pushing his hair out of his eyes. Seconds later he stopped on a Sickle. Crisp sunset ocean was visible on the horizon. He looked back. The castle was a small, lop-sided speck.

Stroking the handle, he found a small compass embedded in the wood. He'd gone south-east. He turned a hundred and eighty degrees and returned at half speed. Otherwise he might overshoot the pitch. It was still at least as fast as his old Firebolt's cruising speed. He'd suspected that one responded to thought rather than touch; he was certain this one did.

On a whim he paused and tested a vertical rise and drop. It worked. No broom in history had ever managed a perfect degree-less shift. Even the original Firebolt needed a few inches of give. He wanted to sleep with this broom. He wanted to marry it. He definitely didn't want to come down.

He looked down and saw a speck on red on the pitch, and swept down to meet him.

"That's bloody amazing!" his friend gasped in awe. Harry laughed, and pointed to the box of balls.

"You ready?"

He knew he should be offering the Firebolt 42 to Ron for a go, but he didn't want to act too much like Harry. Plus, he wanted to keep this broom to himself. Without waiting for Ron to answer, he pulled the handle up sharply and did a half back-roll, gliding up to the middle of the pitch.

"Let's see if you can save Quaffles coming from this thing!" he said cheerfully. Ron paused where he was rising to meet Harry, Quaffle clutched in his hands.

"How did you know I was Keeper?" he asked suspiciously. Harry cursed silently and blushed.

"Seamus said," he lied, praying Ron would believe him.

"Fair enough," Ron shrugged, and threw the Quaffle to Harry. "Try and score,"

So Harry did; and ended up playing badly on purpose just so Ron didn't feel left out.

"Hey, you're not bad!" he said enthusiastically. "Stay here, I'll be back in a minute,"

He shot off towards the castle. Harry looked around. He set down on the pitch and walked over to Hagrid's hut, shouldering his broom. Time to make introductions.

He knocked loudly on the door. It swung open after a few moments to reveal a slightly smaller Hagrid than Harry had remembered. He looked as though he'd been crying.

"Who're you?" he blurted. Fang knocked past him and slobbered all over Harry's jeans in greeting. Of course. He recognised Harry's smell. Harry smiled.

"I'm James Antares. I'm new, and I've made friends with Ron and Hermione. They said I had to meet you, because you're really nice," Harry offered. Hagrid looked abashed and fiddled with his beard.

"Well, I'm the Keeper of the Keys to Hogwarts, and I teach Care of Magical Creatures." He said. "This 'ere's Fang. He's a softy alright."

"Yes, Ron told me about him," Harry laughed, and bent to scratch his ears. He woofed softly.

"Here, they've been saying that you've got yourself a phoenix," Hagrid said excitedly. Harry nodded. "I don't suppose I could borrow 'im fer a few lessons, could I? Professor Dumbledore's phoenix don't like me, you see, but I'd love to teach the kids about 'em!"

"Yeah, sure." Harry smiled. He heard a shout behind and turned. Ron was standing at the top of the hill, waving to him. Harry turned back to Hagrid. "I'd better go. Ron's expecting me. See you later Hagrid!" he waved and started back up the hill.

"Bye James!" Hagrid called after him.

Ginny and Ron were waiting for him when he reached the pitch.

"Hi James," she said brightly. "Ron say you're good at Quidditch, so we thought you may as well try out for Seeker. I'm the reserve, but if you're better I'd be perfectly happy to let you,"

Harry blinked a few times and looked at Ron, who was grinning.

"Yeah, sure… you don't mind?" he asked Ginny.

"Oh not at all. Come on!" she leapt onto her broom, the Snitch clutched in one hand. "Let's see how good you are!"

Ginny released the Snitch and Harry hurtled after it, following it closely. He and Ginny began an intricate dance over the pitch in pursuit of the ball, dodging each other as they both sought the same goal. Ginny wasn't bad – she'd improved over the summer – but Harry's new broom had a massive advantage over hers, turning faster and moving more smoothly, and Harry was just better all round.

Ginny suddenly shot upwards, and Harry whipped his head around to find her. Ginny hurtled past him, brushing his side, nearly knocking him off course. Then they began again, weaving about each other; fingers grasping the air as the Snitch escaped their attempts. Elbows banged, hands collided, and more than once Ginny's head connected with Harry.

Finally Harry's fingers closed easily over the small ball, holding it gently as he set down. Ron was looking impressed, upset and suspicious all at once. Harry's insides turned to lead. He hadn't thought about his flying style… and no doubt he flew exactly how Ron remembered Harry flying. He froze at the look on Ron's face.

"I'll see you in later," he mumbled and ran off, leaving Ron and Ginny on the pitch.

"Right class, wands out!" Flitwick said cheerfully from the front of the class. "We're diving straight into the course, no messing around with theory. I've been told that there was a Duelling Club started in your second year, but it didn't go very well. Is that correct?"

There was a general murmur of assent from the class.

"In that case we'll be having a look at Duelling for the first few weeks. The Headmaster wants you to be as well-versed in the topic, what with the upcoming war and everything. He wants you prepared. But now, can those of you who have actually duelled before please raise your hands?"

Harry, Hermione, Malfoy, and various other students raised their hands. Flitwick quickly counted them and took a note of their names.

"Well I'd rather like to see what stage you're at, Mr. Antares, so if you'd come to the front of the class please," he said to Harry. He stood, wand clutched in his hand, and walked up to the front of the class. "If there anyone willing to duel with James?" Flitwick addressed the rest of the class.

"I'll do it," Malfoy said with a smirk that made Harry's blood run cold.

"Certainly Mr. Malfoy. If you'd both take your positions, we can get started,"

Malfoy stood a few feet from Harry, and they bowed stiffly, wands at their sides. In the few seconds it took, Harry had already decided on his first hex. He hit Malfoy with a Jellylegs Jinx the moment he was straightened, which Malfoy shielded. He was rewarded with Tarantellegra and quickly threw it off, casting Impedimenta, which Malfoy leapt to the side to avoid. Then Malfoy cast another spell, and Harry's insides performed the now familiar trick of turning to something very heavy.

"Serpensortia!"

His eyes immediately started watering as the snake advanced upon him. He couldn't say anything, because it might reveal his being a Parselmouth, and there were only two wizards in existence who could speak Parseltongue. So instead he simply stared at the snake as it came steadily closer, not noticing Flitwick moving to his left side. The noises of the class were oddly muffled, and although he registered Flitwick saying something, he had to concentrate to hear him properly.

"The incantation to get rid of it is _Evanesco Serpens_. Say it, Mr. Antares."

But Harry was still frozen.

"He's scared," Malfoy taunted, and something within Harry snapped. His normally long fuse went up in flames and in the split second after Malfoy spoke Harry's hand was raised and he was speaking.

"Go to him as fast as you can!" he hissed sharply. The snake immediately turned and practically threw itself at Malfoy. Screams erupted around him but as ordered the snake simply stopped right in front of Malfoy. Harry reverted to normal English.

"Don't tempt me, Malfoy" he snarled, and lowered his hand, speaking to the snake again. "Leave him be," he hissed softly, and the snake slinked back towards him. Harry whispered the incantation Flitwick had just told him and the snake disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Harry strode to the back of the classroom and gathered his belongings before stalking out of the room, wand still in his hand.

* * *

Does that count as a cliffhanger? Usually I don't have them... argh my fingers are numb because I have the window open and have been typing for five hours...

Please, R&R! Comments very much appreciated. They help me live.

smokey


	7. Mutual Agreement

Fuck!

That was not a good idea.

Harry paced the empty classroom, wand in hand, door locked. Light streamed in bands off light through the shuttered windows. It was musty in the room, and he decided it probably hadn't been used for quite a while, guessing by the considerable layer of dust that covered half of the room.

What, was Malfoy testing him or something? Because so far pretty much everything he'd done so far gave him a disturbing sense of déjà vu. He was performing the same way as he had with Harry. But what was the point? Had he caught onto Harry already? It was a pity Dumbledore hadn't thought to change his voice, and by now it was too late to ask him to. He continued to pace the room, running the previous five minutes over and over in his head, trying to work out what had made him snap like that. He wasn't normally that short-tempered.

He jumped as the door swung open behind him and slammed shut.

"Well, well," Malfoy sneered. "This certainly is a turn for events. Gryffindor's new Golden Boy is a Parselmouth. What an _interesting_ revelation," he drawled, moving to sit at the teacher's desk. He cast a Silencing and Locking charm on the door.

"How did you get out of class?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I asked to go to the Hospital Wing. The werewolf was quite happy to comply. I must say, you caused absolute uproar in that room. I've never seen Weasley looked so shocked."

"What do you want?" Harry said tiredly and moved to stare out of the gap between the shutters. He could see the courtyard down below.

"I want to know what your bloodlines are,"

Harry looked up, surprised.

"I – what – huh?"

"Such eloquence. One would think that you were related to Potter with such astounding displays of vocabulary," Malfoy said languidly. Harry scowled. "What I meant was, I'm interested to know who your ancestors were. The only living Parselmouth is Voldemort, and the only other known Parselmouth in the last half-century was Potter. So, care to explain how you gained this hereditary gift?"

"I don't know," Harry said coldly. "My parents were killed when I was a baby. I never met them."

"It is interesting, though, that you were Sorted into Gryffindor when you quite blatantly were destined for Slytherin. It's literally in your blood."

"I wouldn't know," Harry replied through gritted teeth. "I don't know what my blood is,"

"I'm going to make you an offer, Antares," Malfoy said suddenly.

"You what?" Harry said before he could stop himself.

"Again, your capacity for words longer than two letters is truly amazing. You will tell me how you learnt such extensive terminology, won't you?"

"Malfoy…" Harry growled.

"All right. Here is my proposal. You help me work out your lineage, and I'll help you discover everything there is to know about Hogwarts,"

"You're all right, I probably know more about Hogwarts than you anyway," Harry laughed.

"How?" Malfoy asked quizzically.

"I was given a map of Hogwarts," Harry explained, feeling oddly at ease, revealing this to Malfoy. "But if this is an offering of friendship, I'm willing to take you up on it,"

Malfoy looked shocked that a Gryffindor could be so perceptive.

"Why?"

"The Gryffindors are beginning to annoy me. All they ever talk about is Quidditch. Plus at any passing mention of Harry Potter they all break down and stop talking. However, I'm not going to ostracise them in favour of Slytherin,"

Malfoy looked stunned, much to Harry's confusion.

"Big words, Antares. But don't worry. You needn't 'ostracise' them. But you must promise me something."

"OK…"

Malfoy stood and walked around the desk to lean on the one Harry was sitting at, something in his eyes that Harry had never seen before. It was an odd look that didn't suit Malfoy – a kind of desperate hope shining in the half-light of the old classroom. Harry held his breath as Malfoy leaned forward, his voice tinged with sadness.

"Promise you won't ostracise me," he said earnestly. Harry stared, dumbfounded. It was honestly the last thing he had expected the Slytherin to say. He nodded his head slowly. Malfoy backed up and leant against the teacher's desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"Promise me something, Malfoy," Harry said. Malfoy inclined his head slightly, indicating for him to go on. "Promise that you will reveal the results of the research and any tests to nobody. Not one person. No matter what happens, you must not tell anybody."

Malfoy regarded him for a moment before agreeing. He pushed off the desk and walked back up to Harry. He pulled a penknife out of his pocket and flicked it open.

"Are you willing to seal this agreement?" he asked. Harry stared uncertainly at the blade.

"What do I have to do?"

"We both cut our palms then hold our hands together, and each says what they are agreeing to, and swears by it. We should also swear not to tell anyone of what we're agreeing, just in case anyone asks. They might take us up on it. Once complete, neither of us can go against the seal unless the other permits it. Simple enough really."

Harry eyed the blade dubiously for a while longer before hesitantly offering his hand out.

"You should stand up," Malfoy suggested, and Harry stood, walking around the desk to stand a few feet in front of Malfoy. He offered his right hand again and Malfoy took it and held the knife against the palm of his hand.

"This won't hurt too much," he said, almost apologetically, then sliced down and across. Harry gasped and jerked his hand away. Malfoy raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and cut his own palm open, his left hand. He held it out, waiting for Harry. The other boy grasped his hand and drew in a sharp breath. He could literally feel Malfoy's magic mingling with his own, swirling between their hands and mixing into each other's bloodstreams.

"Do I say it now?" Harry asked. Malfoy nodded. "I will not ostracise Draco Malfoy in any way, regardless of what others say and do. I will also not convey the existence or contents of this agreement with any other person save Malfoy himself, even if questioned, or put under Veritaserum or any other truth serum." he said clearly, and glanced at Malfoy, who was looking pensive. "Malfoy?" he urged. The Slytherin met his gaze sharply.

"I will not reveal to any person or animal or plant or other object, animate or inanimate, the truth concerning the lineage of James Antares, whoever he may be. I will not write it down, speak of it, or in any way communicate his identity. I will also not convey the existence or contents of this agreement with any other person save Antares himself, even if questioned, or put under Veritaserum or any other truth serum." Malfoy pulled out his wand and tapped their joined hands. "_Perago_," he said, and indicated that Harry should do the same.

"_Perago,_"

The surge of magic would have sent Harry tumbling had he not been joined to Malfoy. As it was, he simply staggered forward into Malfoy. He expected to be pushed away, but Malfoy wrapped his free arm around Harry, holding him up. Harry pulled himself upright using Malfoy's shoulder and his free hand, and waited for the magic to stop. It rumbled around the room, shaking the very foundations of the school and reverberating around the two students. Malfoy suddenly gripped him tightly and squeezed him against his chest.

This time Harry was knocked off his feet, and dragged Malfoy down with him. Malfoy landed on top of him, and he moulded around Harry as they waited.

It finally stopped, and Malfoy awkwardly stood up, hands still joined, pulling Harry with him. He prised their hands apart as gently as possible, both of them wincing at the pain it brought.

"Thought it wouldn't hurt much," Harry gasped.

"Was talking about the cut," Malfoy grunted in response, and gave in being gentle, ripping their hands apart. Harry yelped as the palm of his hand was revealed, burnt black and looking as though it had been grazed badly. Blood was seeping out of a large hole in the middle of his hand, and he whimpered. With a quick look over at Malfoy, he could see that the same was true of the Slytherin. Malfoy raised his wand and muttered a simple healing charm on Harry's hand. New skin stitched in a faint web over his palm, tenuously holding it together. He repeated it on his own hand.

"It's a magical injury so there's only so much I can do to heal it. With hindsight we should have used our non-writing hands, but no matter."

"So it's done?"

"Yes. We're both bound by the spell,"

"But why?"

"Because we did a sealing spell, you –" Malfoy began, irritated.

"No, I meant why would you do this? From what I've heard form the other Gryffindors, you're an insufferable, arrogant, selfish, egotistical, pathetic, snivelling –"

"I get the point," Malfoy snapped, and Harry was pleased to see that he was a bit flustered. "Do you believe them?"

"Not now I don't."

"Good."

"But why did they say things like that if they weren't true?"

"Well, they are true. I am all those things that you just listed. But only to them. I'm almost nice to my friends. And I'm not nice to them because they're Gryffindors."

"So am I." Harry pointed out.

"Ah, but you're not meant to be, are you? I reckon that the Sorting Hat had a few misgivings about which House to Sort you into. But I shouldn't worry. You're probably just as much Slytherin as Gryffindor."

"I suppose you're right,"

"Of course I am. I'm Draco Malfoy." Malfoy replied pompously, earning a wry smile from Harry. "But if you'd excuse me, I have to go to a Muggle Studies class now."

"You're taking Muggle Studies?" Harry asked, surprised. Malfoy nodded.

"It's always a good idea if you're planning on being an Auror. They often have to work under-cover in Muggle environments. What do you want to do when you finish your NEWTs?"

"Um, I wanted to be an Auror too, but I'm not taking Muggle Studies. Just the four base subjects."

"Did you grow up with Muggles?"

"Yes."

"Well then you'll be all right. It's just so I can get an idea of how they work, that's all. Well, see you. I'll meet you in the library at five, so we can get started on your lineage, OK?"

"Yeah, that's fine, but I have to go and see Dumbledore at six. Will that be all right?"

"Probably. I'll see you there then,"

Malfoy picked up his bag from where he'd dropped it on the floor as he came in the door and left. Harry sat down again, now utterly confused.

What had just happened?

He stalked into the library later that day to find Malfoy sat surrounded by books, most open and half with markers stuck in random places. He looked up when Harry walked in, his eyes positively shining.

"I've found loads of stuff, you'll have to have a look at this." He said enthusiastically, and Harry wondered what this person had done with the real Draco Malfoy.

"You're not anything like what the others say. You act differently around me to them,"

"Like I said, they're Gryffindors to the bone. You seem rather like a Slytherin, plus you haven't given me a reason to hate you. Yet." He added ruefully.

"Fair enough." Harry shrugged. "So what are you looking at?"

"Blood magic, of course. Come on, help me get this lot into my bag, we may as well go down into the dungeons. It's easier to work down there,"

Feeling only slightly apprehensive, Harry compliantly helped pack Malfoy's bag, and ended up carrying half of the books down to the dungeons in his arms. They stopped outside the blank stretch of wall Harry remembered from the second year.

"Basilisk!" Malfoy called, and with a crunch and groan the wall slid back, leaving a gap for them to walk through. Harry struggled through with the extra books, and smiled wryly. The common room was exactly as he had remembered. He paused to take in the relaxed, almost friendly atmosphere in the Slytherin's pit, then followed Malfoy through into a separate room.

"What room's this?" he asked. He dumped the books on the large green and silver four-poster and gazed around the room as Malfoy shut the door.

It was about the size of the sixth year Gryffindor dorm. He could see an ornate bathroom off through a door, decorated in silver and marble, which included a large bath. There was a fireplace on the far wall, and bookcases lining the walls. Next to him was a desk with scrolls of parchment laid on it and quills littering the top. Everything was done in silver and green.

"This is my bedroom," Malfoy said, as though talking to an idiot. Harry gaped.

"You have your own bedroom?"

"Yes," Malfoy said slowly. "We have since fifth year,"

"That's not fair! We don't get our own bedroom! We have to sleep in dorms right through, even the prefects." He complained. "I wish I'd been in Slytherin." He muttered as an afterthought. Malfoy laughed.

"Yeah, well McGonagall's obviously not the Head that Snape's managed to become!"

Harry agreed silently. He sighed and picked up a book from the bed, and turned it to read the front.

"_Blood Magic: A Guide To Discovery_," he read out.

"I've found a good potion that reveals who your parents were. I've got most of the ingredients here, do you want to do it now?"

"How long does it take?" Harry asked nervously.

"Only half an hour to actually make, but then it needs to be left for a few days before you can take a reading," Malfoy said, opening a book and consulting it. "Two days. It should be ready by Wednesday night." he looked up at Harry. "Well?"

"Um… yeah, sure,"

"Great. I'll go get the stuff I don't have from Snape now then. He won't ask what it's for, don't worry. I'll be back in a minute, the other ingredients are in that cupboard there," he pointed to a cabinet behind Harry. "Start getting the equipment ready."

He walked back out of the door, leaving a slightly confused Harry. The Gryffindor peered at the book and began taking out ingredients from the cabinet.

Mica… hellebore syrup… hawthorn root… dragon tooth… unicorn milk… cocoa powder?… beetle eyes… fluxweed…

"I'm back!" Malfoy said, slightly breathlessly, bursting in through the door. He had a few jars in shi arms that he deposited on the desk. He frowned at Harry. "You're slow," he said, but without malice. He deftly produced a cauldron and set it to boil over a charmed flame, gathering together the ingredients. He grabbed the book from Harry.

"When do we start?" Harry asked, consulting his watch. It was quarter past five. "And why do we need cocoa powder?"

"Don't know, that's just what it says." Malfoy shrugged. "And we can start now. Grind the beetle eyes to a fine powder then put them in the cauldron and add two daisies." He said without looking up from the book.

Harry picked up a pestle and mortar that had appeared from nowhere and began grinding the beetle eyes.

He was fast asleep in the armchair beside the crackling fire when Malfoy prodded his arm. He grunted and tried to squirm away, not entirely succeeding. He heard a chuckle beside him and cracked an eye open, surprised that Malfoy had the capacity to laugh without sounding mocking.

"You have a nice laugh," he said sleepily, brain still not functioning properly, and realising once he'd said it that it probably wasn't the best idea. Malfoy laughed again and prodded him again.

"Come on, I need some of your blood."

Harry obligingly stuck a hand out. Malfoy took it and gently pricked his finger, then held it over a bowl. Harry allowed the blood to be siphoned off and heard Malfoy mutter a quick Healing charm once enough was collected. He took his hand back and was about to try and go to sleep when Malfoy prodded him again.

"You can't go to sleep, you said you have to see Dumbledore in ten minutes." Malfoy reminded him. Groaning, Harry sat up and stretched, rolling his neck, causing it to crack. He bent backwards and his spine thunked in about five different places.

"Ew." Malfoy said disdainfully, and stood up. Harry grinned. He stood up and stretched again, yawning widely. He raised his right hand and was reminded of the bond. The open wound did not look nice at all, and he knew it would get infected soon.

"Have you got anything for me to sort out my hand?" he asked Malfoy, peering over his shoulder to see into the cauldron. It was white and gently bubbling. Malfoy stood, knocking Harry's chin with his shoulder.

"Oops, sorry," he said, and Harry stared, aware that it was the first time Malfoy had ever apologised to him. He watched as the Slytherin rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a length of black cloth with green and silver trimming. "It's part of one of my old robes. I keep them in case I need stuff to clean up potions mess."

"Can't you just use your wand?" Harry asked, confused, as Malfoy proceeded to wrap his hand up.

"Not for some potions."

"Oh."

Malfoy secured it around his hand with a gentle tap from his wand.

"Sorry, but unless you want to redo it with something in Gryffindor colours, you're going to be clashing for the rest of the week at least. But you don't mind too much, do you?" Malfoy asked Harry shook his head. "Excellent. The look on Weasley's face will be priceless."

"I guess it will," Harry laughed.

"How are they dealing with a new person?"

"All right, I suppose. They can tend to get a bit annoying at times, but that's easy enough to sort out. All I have to do is mention Harry Potter and they all get too depressed to notice me sneaking off."

"Nicely done! You really should have been in Slytherin, that's your cunning coming through. Now get on with you, the old coot's going to be wondering where you are." He shooed Harry away towards the door.

"Malfoy, can you walk me back to the Entrance Hall? Harry asked.

"I thought you said you had a map?"

"Oh yeah!" Harry said brightly, and stuck his hand into his pocket, drawing out the map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,"

The familiar green lines spread out across the parchment, and Malfoy stared as the words inked across the top.

"Who made this?" he asked, completely in awe. Harry grinned.

"Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and prongs," he said.

"Well obviously, it says that. But who were they?"

"Hogwarts' greatest ever pranksters." Harry said proudly. "I can't tell you who Wormtail and Moony were, but I'll tell you Prongs and Padfoot if you want,"

"Yes!" Malfoy said enthusiastically."

"First, do you know who the Marauders were?"

"These four people, I'm guessing."

"Yes. They happened to be at school the same time as Snape,"

"You're kidding?" Malfoy said, realisation dawning on his face. "Not…?"

"Yes," Harry said proudly. "James Potter and Sirius Black!"

"Black was Potter's godfather, you know," Malfoy said.

"Yes. I know. But he died over the summer. Dumbledore told me."

"Speaking of Dumbledore, where's his office?" Malfoy asked, peering at the map. Harry pointed.

"He's pacing his study. He does that a lot."

"Look, it's us!" Malfoy laughed, and pointed to two dots in the corner. "Hang on…" he said, and Harry looked to where his finger was pointing. He froze, and stopped breathing.

The two dots read 'Draco Malfoy' and 'Harry Potter'.

"There's something wrong with this map, Antares." Malfoy said. "Harry Potter's dead."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's probably just because he was the last one to own it," he lied. Malfoy shot him a sharp look.

"You got this from Potter?"

"Yes. Dumbledore got all his possessions, and decided to give me this map."

"Fine then. I'll see you tomorrow in Potions. Do you want to work with me?"

"What?"

"I said, do you want to work with me? Snape told me that he's going to be putting us in pairs to stay in for the year. I might as well work with you, since I know you and like you. It that all right with you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Oh and one more thing. My name's Draco, not Malfoy."

"In that case, my name is James," Harry said with a grin, which Malfoy returned.

"Fair enough. See you tomorrow,"

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "How are you?"

"It's more difficult that I thought," Harry said heavily, and sank into the armchair Dumbledore had conjured for him. He buried his face in his hands. "I slipped up more times today than is acceptable. Hermione's going to have it figured out by the end of the week, and then the whole plan will be ruined." He said tiredly. "Ron recognised my flying style, I let slip some stuff that James Antares shouldn't know, and I accidentally spoke Parseltongue. It's not been the best of days,"

"Alas. Unfortunately, there is not much I can do to help you there. It is up to you to convince them that you are indeed James Antares."

"But it's hard!" Harry complained, well aware that he sounded like a petulant five-year-old.

"What have you done to your hand?" Dumbledore asked, sounding concerned. Harry glanced at it.

"Burn it." He said bluntly.

Dumbledore twinkled at him.

"It is good to see that James has not the same prejudices as Harry," he said belligerently. Harry gave him a blank look. "Sherbet lemon?"

Harry took one of the sweets and popped it into his mouth.

"I was wondering, do you have all my old stuff somewhere?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. Are you needing something?"

"Not at the moment. I was just wondering if I could give Ron my old Firebolt for his birthday. He could use a good broom, and I've got a new one anyway."

"I should think so. When is Mr. Weasley's birthday?"

"Start of November. Hermione's is in October, but I haven't a clue what to get her," he said huffily, then was struck by a brainwave. "No, I know _exactly_ what to get her!" he said happily, then sank back into his seat. "When's the first Hogsmeade weekend?" he asked hopefully.

"This weekend. We decided to get going early this year."

Harry grinned.

"Is there anything else you would like to tell me?" Dumbledore asked, a knowing tone to his voice. Harry tilted his head and considered his answer.

"I've made friends with Draco Malfoy." He answered.

"That's good to hear." Dumbledore paused. "Anything else?"

"No."

"Very well" Dumbledore, said, sounding slightly disappointed. Harry felt guilty, even though he knew he couldn't tell anyone. "I shall allow you to retire to your common room,"

"I do have a question," Harry said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"What if the portraits tell people? You've been calling me Harry and they will have heard."

"Oh no, I cast a Silencing charm on the room to exclude the portraits. Nobody knows but you and I. And I trust you not to tell anyone." He added sternly. "I will be disappointed if I find that you have without consulting me first."

"Yes sir," Harry said humbly.

"You may go," Dumbledore said, offering him another sherbet lemon. He took it and pocketed it.

"Thank you sir."

"I would like to see you again at the end of the week, if at all possible. After your last lesson on Friday, please,"

"Yes sir. Goodnight, sir,"

"Goodnight, James."

* * *

I'm tired... please, please, please, PLEASE! Review! I'm getting pitiful numbers of reviews for ALL my fics on here, I would lvoe you forever if you just took the time to tell me what you think. It's greatly appreciated.

smokey ... is tired.


	8. Lingua Omni

Harry slept in the next day and was woken by Cicatrix appearing on his bed in a burst of magical flames. Groaning, he took the letter from the phoenix and stroked the blood-red plumage of his head, unrolling the parchment with the other. It was from Mrs Weasley.

_Dear James,_

_My name is Molly Weasley. I am Ron's mother, and I am delighted to hear that he has made another friend. From what he has written you sound like a wonderful person, and I look forward to meeting you._

_I am afraid I must apologise for Ron's behaviour. Sometimes he can get very angry and upset, but you must understand that it is just because he is still upset about the death of Harry Potter. He was Ron's best friend, and both he and Hermione took the news very badly indeed._

_Again, I look forward to meeting you soon._

_Molly Weasley_

Wondering vaguely why Ron was writing home so early, and why Mrs Weasley felt it necessary to welcome him as Ron's friend, he screwed up his face. He sighed and lay his head back down.

"Wake me up half an hour before Potions, will you?" he murmured to Cicatrix, who settled compliantly on Harry's stomach.

He was woken again by a sharp peck on his nose.

"Hey!" he yelped, and Cicatrix stared at him placidly. Grumbling, he crawled out of bed and made a beeline for the shower. He had dreamt about dragons and stags, and shook his head to clear it of the odd images. The shower was cold, and he made it a quick one, getting down to Potions before the class started. He yawned widely as he came to a halt outside the dungeon, and stood beside Hermione, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I'm tired." He complained.

"You shouldn't be. You had a long sleep," she said surprised.

"Yeah well, I'm still tired." He groaned. He took his head off her shoulder and tried to flatten his unruly hair – then remembered that he had different hair. And it was already lying flat against his head. He smiled to himself and yawned again.

"Amazing though your tonsils are, please refrain from exhibiting them to the whole class," said a drawl to his right. He closed his mouth abruptly and stared at Malfoy.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione snarled viciously. Harry and Malfoy stared at her – Harry with shock, Malfoy with amusement.

"You don't need to get huffy, Granger, I was merely complimenting James's tonsils," he said mildly. Harry snorted at the look on Hermione's face.

"Don't worry, Hermione. He's harmless," he said with a grin.

"I am not harmless!" Malfoy said indignantly. "I happen to be very dangerous! First years quiver before me, and those in the other years at least have to sense to move out of my way when they see such a powerful, authoritative figure approaching!" he turned sharply towards Harry and Hermione. "Bow before me, humble Gryffindors!" he said dramatically.

Hermione was about to start yelling again when she saw that Harry was laughing. She stared as Harry bowed.

"I am not worthy of your presence, oh great Draco Malfoy." He said, stifling a laugh as he bowed before Malfoy. The Slytherin looked immensely pleased.

"It's good to see that at least one Gryffindor has a sense of humour!" he said happily as Harry straightened.

"What's going on?" asked a cold, sneering voice. Harry's head snapped around. Snape was standing in the doorway to the Potions classroom, a suspicious look on his face.

"Antares was just acknowledging my superiority, sir," Malfoy said innocently. Snape shot Harry a glare.

"Come in, and no more messing around," he snapped. Chuckling, Malfoy followed Harry into the room. Snape waited until they were all sat down before he spoke again. "Before we even start, I want you in pairs," he said. Hermione automatically shifted closer to Harry. "If I do not approve of the pair, I will reshuffle you as I see fit. Is that understood? Keep in mind that you will be staying in these pairs for the whole year."

The class watched him in silence. He looked sharply at them.

"Get on with it!" he snapped, and they immediately started moving. Hermione sighed and turned to Harry.

"Well, at least I –"

"James?"

Harry turned to Draco. Hermione gave them a puzzled look.

"Sorry Hermione, I said I'd partner him," he said apologetically. She looked crestfallen.

"It's fine, I'll find someone else," she said miserably, and turned away. Harry watched her for a moment before he gathered his bag up and followed Draco to where he was sat.

"I recognise you," someone behind him said. "You were in the common room last night."

Harry turned to see Blaise Zabini staring at him.

"Yeah, he's the new Gryffindor, but I'm working on converting him," Draco replied, offering Harry a wink. "His name is James Antares. He's not fond of the Gryffindors,"

Hermione happened to be walking past at the second and she gave Harry a hurt look and marched off. Draco dropped his stool back onto four feet and bit his lip.

"Oops." He said, wincing. Harry shook his head.

"It's fine. She probably won't believe you anyway."

"Mr. Antares," Snape's voice rang out across the room. "Kindly focus on the task at hand,"

Harry glanced at the board and quickly read the instructions. He recalled studying something similar over the holidays, and forced himself to think back to that week when he was staying with Snape, the week when he had studied meticulously for each of the four subjects. It suddenly came to him.

"Lingua Omni," he said, surprised. He turned to Draco. "What does he want us to make that for?" he asked, puzzled. Draco shrugged.

"Merlin knows. We'd better just get on with it,"

Harry nodded in agreement, and pulled his scales.

"Do you want to use your cauldron or mine?" he asked Draco. The Slytherin peered at his, then his eyes widened in shock.

"Solid silver? Ooh, we'd better use yours. Solid silver gives potions more potency and makes them more stable," he said enthusiastically, hauling Harry's cauldron towards him and throwing the first ingredients in. "How rich are you?" he asked incredulously as Harry produced crystal vials and an eagle quill.

"My parents left me a small fortune," he said modestly.

"You could say that," Draco said appreciatively.

They worked in silence for five minutes, perfectly content with short missives like "Pass the syrup," or "Turn the cauldron down a bit," Harry glanced up once, and caught Snape eyeing him and Malfoy with something akin to pride. Harry frowned, and when Snape noticed him staring, glared furiously. Harry withered under the look and gazed around the room. He couldn't help but feel a pang of pity for Hermione, who was paired with Ernie Macmillan. She looked bored to death as he prattled on pompously to her about everything and nothing. He suppressed a grin.

"What was so funny in Madam Malkin's?" Draco asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

Draco tilted his head in amusement.

"Astounding, your vernacular ability is almost shadowed by your retention for events," he said smoothly, not once stumbling. Harry scowled.

"I ought to enquire as to the connotation of that sentence, but you would irrefutably ridicule my distinct ignorance for such extensive vocabulary." Harry said mildly. Draco dropped his knife, stunned, and stared at Harry, who continued working. Then he burst out laughing.

"Excellent, James!" he spluttered, earning himself a few disturbed glances from those working around them. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"Mr Malfoy, language," Snape reprimanded sharply from the class. Harry couldn't help but grin as Draco took a few deep breaths, still chuckling now and then.

"Well, you were asking for it," Harry muttered. Draco snorted.

"I was hardly expecting my trick to be thrown back at me. And it was thrown quite well, too!" he said brightly, adding liquefied holly berries. "Now, answer the question. What was so funny in Madam Malkin's?"

Harry paused, considering whether or not to tell him. In the end, he relied on his in-built Slytherin cunning.

"If you can tell me my lineage, I'll tell you what was so funny," he said finally. Draco looked rather pleased.

"Well, it's just a matter of time then!" he said, grinning. "Because everyone knows that I'm the best potions student!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's good to hear," he said wryly. He flipped his textbook open to the correct page. He read through the potion and frowned at the bottom of the page. He looked up, and sure enough, there was a stage missed out on the board. He poked Draco in the ribs and stared when the Slytherin giggled. Draco stopped immediately when he noticed Harry was staring.

"Shut up," he scowled. "Very few people know I'm ticklish,"

Harry snorted.

"Look, he's left this bit out of the potion," he said, and pointed to the line in the textbook which stated that dragon's liver should be added after the rosehip juice.

"Honestly, do you really think that Snape keeps dragon's liver in the student's store cupboard?" Draco said exasperatedly. Harry stared at him blankly, then stuck his hand into his pocket and drew out the bag that contained a few bits of Cicatrix's dragon's liver. Draco stared at it. "I'm confused." He said bluntly.

"It's for my phoenix. It's what I feed him." He set the bag down on the desk and peered at the textbook. "It says it makes the drinker able to speak the language, too. Hey, don't you want to add it?" he asked Draco enthusiastically.

"Do you have enough?"

"I should do, and I have plenty back in the dormitory. Plus I can just buy more in Hogsmeade at the weekend. Come on, what's the worst that could happen? We can make up an excuse if Snape starts yelling. You're his favourite student, remember?"

"I suppose so," Draco said eventually. Grinning broadly, Harry measured out the correct amount of liver.

Five minutes later, the class was full of cauldrons gently simmering, all a faint blue colour. All except one.

"I assume you have an explanation for this, Antares?" Snape sneered coldly, glaring down at the offending potion. It was bright green.

"We followed the textbook properly, and didn't do anything wrong to our knowledge," Draco replied smoothly. Snape jerked his head to face him.

"Did you not think that I might have written out a different version of the potion out for you to follow for a reason?" he barked. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Hermione fling her book open, curious as to what Harry had done that she hadn't.

"As far as we could see, the extra ingredient doesn't have any harmful side effects." Draco said quickly.

"And would you be kind enough to explain exactly how you got your hands on the extra ingredient? I know for a fact that I do not have it in the student store cupboard." He sneered. Harry swallowed nervously.

"I have some, sir," he said, and pulled the bag out of the robes. Snape stared at him.

"Why?" he asked softly. Harry shivered.

"It's for my phoenix. Professor Dumbledore gave me it," he said honestly. Snape scowled down at him, then turned to address the class.

"Well then, since you have decided to take matters into your own hands, I do not expect you to come running to me when it fails dismally. I have been told that you are a Parselmouth, Antares. Let's see if Mr. Malfoy can make sense of your incoherent hissing." He said smartly, and sat down. "Three drops should do, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco took three drops of the potion and turned to Harry.

"Say something," he prompted.

Harry glanced down at the Slytherin crest on his partner's chest and tried to imagine it moving.

"Draco Malfoy," he said.

"I understood that!" Draco said excitedly.

"That's because it was in English, Mr. Malfoy," Snape drawled from the front of the classroom. "Perhaps Antares is not a Parselmouth after all."

Burning with fury, Harry concentrated on the snake on Draco's crest, forcing himself to believe that it was real.

"Draco Malfoy," he tried again.

"I think we will have to move on, if Antares refuses to perform…" Snape began.

"Shut up!" he snapped furiously, head whipping around to face Snape. "It's not as if I'm not trying, you try and speak Parseltongue!" then he cringed, waiting for Snape's wrath to come crashing down. Draco had a similar look on his face. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"I am assuming that was an insult you just threw at me. However, Mr. Malfoy is the only person other than yourself who would know at this point, so unfortunately I cannot take points." He said coldly. Harry blinked.

"Oh," he said blankly.

"Antares, kindly talk in English when you are directing your speech processes towards me." Snape snapped irritably. Harry glanced back at Draco and they simultaneously burst out laughing.

"So it's working?" Draco asked between gasps, and Harry noted the faint hiss in his voice. He tried to copy it.

"It must be!" he choked.

"We can take some of this potion away with us, so we can speak privately from now on. I wonder how long it lasts?" Draco mused once he had calmed down enough. The rest of the class were already taking their potions.

"I don't know, you can ask Snape, but be careful now, the rest of them are testing." Harry replied. Draco nodded, and spoke again without the hiss.

"Professor, how long does the potion last?"

Snape sneered at them.

"That which I assigned to the class will last for an hour at most. However, the version you two attempted will last the full day," Harry and Draco exchanged gleeful looks, "but I can easily provide you with a counter-potion, Mr. Malfoy,"

"No thanks," Draco replied. "I'll be all right."

"Quiet!" Snape yelled over the mutterings of the class. "Antares, speak a sentence of Parseltongue. The rest of you, take a note of the sentence. I will be checking your answers at the end of the lesson to see how well you have done,"

He motioned to Harry, who bit his lip. He didn't know what to say. Then he grinned.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers, are proud to present the Marauder's Map," he recited in Parseltongue. Most of the class looked faintly puzzled, but copied down what they had heard anyway. To his left, Draco was barely suppressing his laughter.

"He's going to kill you," he whispered, writing out the sentence as he chuckled. Harry grinned.

"What's he going to do? He can't prove anything. He doesn't even know I have the map!"

"Very Slytherin of you," Draco complimented. Harry smiled.

"Bring your parchment up to the front, with your pair's name on it," Snape called out. Once the paper was all collected in, he turned once more to Harry. "Come up here and write out your sentence on the board."

Harry stood and walked over to the board, and quickly wrote out what he had said. He finished and laid the chalk down on the shelf. He glanced at Snape's face once on his way back to his seat. And saw that he looked partly confused, partly furious. Draco prodded him as he sat back down.

"Should be interesting to see what the dolts all came up with," he whispered. Harry grinned, but his smile faltered. A year ago he would have been angry at Draco for calling them that. But now, he was simply accepting it as Draco's inability to see himself as being on the same level as such 'plebeians', as he had called them at least once the previous year.

"Miss Granger and Mr. Macmillan have translated rather well, with the error of Mauler rather than Marauder.

"Miss Parkinson heard that they were the Perverts of AIDs and Magical Masturbaters.

"Mr Zabini transcribed their names as Loony, Worm and Snail, Madfoot and Songs.

"The rest carry on in a similar fashion, although not quite as disturbing as Miss Parkinson and Mr. Boot's…" Pansy went bright red and hit Boot on the arm, "but not one of you managed to correctly translate the sentence. Nevertheless, I am sure that you would survive with this level of understanding, and – no, wait." He said softly, pulling out a single piece of parchment. The words on it were small and neatly done in a slightly fancy script. "Mr. Malfoy has correctly translated the sentence with an extra word. '_Messrs_ Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs,"

"Oops," Draco cringed beside Harry.

"Idiot," Harry seethed.

"But I shall overlook the error," Snape continued. "As you have spelt every word correctly. Ten points to Slytherin," he said.

"What about Gryffindor? We worked together on the potion," Draco interjected. Snape stared.

"Fine then. Five points to Gryffindor for helping," Snape sneered at Harry, who glared back.

"Bastard," he hissed, and several startled faces turned to stare at him, waiting for Snape's reaction. Then they realised that he had said it in Parseltongue, and the amazement turned to amusement. Snape raised another eyebrow, which Harry fought with an innocent smile. Snape scowled and turned away.

"I want samples from your potions labelled and on my desk in five minutes," He said loudly. "Get moving."

Harry watched as Draco filled a flask with the potion and took it to Snape, then furtively siphoned the rest off into a larger flask which he stowed away in his bag. He cleaned the cauldron out and handed it back to Harry.

"This is going to be fun!" he said brightly, a massive grin on his face.

Harry had never seen anything more disturbing.

Draco was making full use of his new-found powers. He had waited an hour before yelling things across the Great Hall at lunch, things that made Harry blush even though he knew that nobody else understood.

"Check out that Ravenclaw James! She's damned hot!" he yelled at one point, and Harry couldn't help himself. He looked over to where Draco was pointing, and was appalled to see Cho Chang glaring at him.

"That's not funny, Draco," he hissed back. The Slytherin simply giggled helplessly.

"Stop yelling, Antares," Snape growled from behind him. Harry leapt out of his seat, and Draco taunted him some more as Snape started yelling at him. The Slytherin proceeded to say the most embarrassing things he could think off whilst Snape berated Harry, and when it didn't work, started commenting on Snape's greasy hair and big nose. Harry had to bite his lip to stop laughing, so hard that blood crept into his mouth.

"I wonder if McGonagall has a sex life?" Draco wondered during Transfiguration, and Harry had been so surprised by the comment that he just burst out laughing whilst trying to be angry with Draco. Damn, the Malfoy charm was just hilarious. Draco used the advantage to say the most outrageously funny things he could, causing Harry to collapse on the floor in hysterics, only to be shut up with a Silencing charm by a rather irate McGonagall. She only removed it when he appeared calm enough to talk.

"Would you like to tell the rest of the class what Mr Malfoy said that is so funny?" she said angrily. Harry took one look at Draco's face at collapsed again.

"Ooh, how about this – McGonagall and Filch, and Filch is wearing a pink leather thong…"

Harry didn't hear the rest. McGonagall had sent him out of the classroom.

* * *

Ahem... yeah, well, I read all the lovely reviews you sent me and, like one of you (sorry can't remember who!) said, getting reviews kind of make you want to post more chapters. So I won't get acrried away with myself, and only post one chapter this evening. Even though I have more than ten written.

Reviews are good... reviews are nice... please review...

Praise the wonderful FireOpal tree.

smokey


	9. Revelations and Pointless Waterfights

By the time Wednesday evening came around, Harry didn't think he had ever been more nervous. Tonight, Draco was going to find out the truth. Tonight, the odd camaraderie they had forged would be crushed underfoot and thrown away to the wind. And although Draco couldn't tell anyone, Harry couldn't help but feeling terribly apprehensive about the whole process. He didn't want Malfoy to hate him.

He whispered the password to the blank stretch of wall and walked through the common room to Draco's bedroom. He opened the door to find Draco stood bent over the simmering cauldron. He looked up when he saw Harry and ushered him in, his eyes shining.

"Come on, I want to get this done!" he said excitedly. Harry sat down on the bed and bit his lip.

"Remember Draco, you can't tell anyone," he began nervously. Draco shot his an amused glance and held up his hand, the wound still painfully obvious on his palm.

"I can't, even if I did want to," he reminded him. Harry nodded his head, and took a deep breath.

"Then I want you to promise me something,"

Malfoy looked up from where he was prodding the contents of the cauldron and frowned at Harry. He saw the desperate look on his face and sat down on the bed next to him.

"What?" he asked, confused. "What do you want me to promise?"

"That you won't ostracise me," Harry said softly. "Because I know you will."

"Sure," Draco said slowly.

"Please?" Harry whispered, staring down at his injured hand. "I don't want you to hate me because of who my parents were." He looked up at Draco. "You're my friend, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes," Draco said without hesitation.

"Well, I want you to stay my friend. But I know you won't want to,"

"Look, we'll come to that when we do, OK? Let's just get the potion finished." Draco said, and stood up, offering his hand to Harry. He took it, and felt the surge of magic between their palms as the wounds joined briefly, even through the Slytherin robe Harry still had around his hand.

Draco took a cup full of the potion and motioned to Harry.

"Hold that piece of parchment over the cauldron. I'm going to pour this on, and your parents' names will appear. So might yours, but that's not an issue."

Harry took the piece of parchment, thinking that it was possibly the biggest issue he was facing that night. He closed his eyes and looked away as Draco poured the potion over the outstretched scroll.

Nothing happened. He waited for the explosion – from the potion or Malfoy, he wasn't sure – but it didn't come. All that happened was that the parchment was taken away from him and the door slammed. Harry opened his eyes. Malfoy had left him. He walked over to the door, but found that it was locked. Cursing, he swirled around. The parchment lay on the desk, and he could clearly see the names written on it.

James Potter 

_Lily Potter (nee Evans)_

_Harry James Potter_

Swearing again, he sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

Damn.

He got off the bed and went into the corner, sitting down and pressing himself up against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. He didn't move when the door banged open again. Harry buried his face further into his arms and waited for the torrent of insults that would inevitably come issuing out of the Slytherin's mouth.

"Harry?"

Harry's head snapped up at the sound. Draco had said it in such a gentle voice that Harry would have thought it had been someone else. But no, here was Draco Malfoy, crouching down beside him, looking concerned.

"I'm sorry," Harry croaked, and buried his face as far away from Draco as he could.

"So the map wasn't wrong," he mused. "Who else knows?"

"Just Dumbledore," Harry said sadly. "It was Lupin that got me out, but Dumbledore Obliviated him. It's a plan, you see, to make Voldemort think I'm dead," he explained to his arms. "Are we still friends?" he asked shakily, fearing the worst.

"Yes." Malfoy replied after only a moment's hesitation.

"Thank you," Harry whispered. He looked up into Draco's grey eyes. "I'm sorry I deceived you. I just wanted to get to know you." He laughed weakly. "That's what I found so funny in Madam Malkin's. That was the same way I met you first time around, in there. I just found the whole thing so ironic. But then you started acting maturely, which was something I wasn't expecting."

"Thanks," Draco said wryly. He sat down properly opposite Harry.

"Were you being serious?" Harry asked. "When you said you didn't hate you?"

"Yes," Draco said truthfully. "I guess I was just a bit –"

"Jealous?" Harry finished for him with another wry smile, which he returned. "Do you hate me now?"

"No."

"Thank you."

The next major event happened that Friday in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Right class, wands out!" Lupin said cheerfully from the front of the class. "We'll be starting today with the Patronus Charm. It's used against Dementors, and can be relatively difficult, but it's not dissimilar to getting rid of a Boggart."

Harry froze. There was only one possible Patronus he would produce, and Lupin would recognise it instantly. He paled as Lupin continued.

"Repeat the incantation after me – _Expecto Patronum_,"

The class muttered the spell and waved their wands, and Harry couldn't help but notice that all those who had been in the DA managed to produce one first time around. Ron's sheep took a few wobbly steps before falling and disappearing, while Hermione's swan lingered for slightly longer before fading. Harry scanned the room and noticed a large snake materialise before Draco, lasting longer than any of the others. He gazed as the students not in the DA watched incredulously as the Patronuses produced made various noises.

"Aren't you going to try, James?" Lupin said jovially from the front of the classroom. Harry's insides froze over again. He felt ill.

"I feel a bit ill, sir," he said, a bit too quickly. Lupin glanced at him sceptically.

"I'm sure you could try just once, James," he said, frowning. "Everybody else has had a go. Nobody will laugh if you don't produce anything. I'd be impressed if you did,"

"No, it's not that, I just… I feel unwell. Can I go to the Hospital Wing please?" his stomach churned, and he hoped Lupin would release him. He didn't want to have to explain why his Patronus took on the form of James Potter's Animagus form. He shivered at the thought and Lupin walked up beside him.

"I expect it's just a matter of nerves. Come on, just say it. You'll feel better, I promise,"

"NO!" Harry shouted, and buried his head in his hands.

"Mr. Antares…"

"I SAID NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry yelled and tore from the classroom, wand still clutched tightly in his hand. He pelted down the corridor and, seeing an empty corridor, threw himself into it and locked the door behind him. He slowly walked over to the teacher's desk and sat at it. Head cradled in his hands.

Damn. His first day back and he'd already blown it. He hoped Dumbledore would understand. Then again, it would be a big blow to the rest of the wizarding world, to discover that their dead Saviour was not so dead. In fact, quite alive and well. And what about Snape? How would he react to knowing he had treated Harry Potter with relative kindness for a week, in his own home. Harry buried his face further into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut. He started as the charm on the door was broken and Lupin walked into the room. He closed the door and locked it again.

"Would you like to explain what all that was about?" he said quietly but firmly. Harry shook his head and buried his head back into his arms. "We can't help you if we don't –"

"I don't need your help!" Harry snapped, raising his head, then turned away. "I… I need to see Dumbledore…" he mumbled, embarrassed.

"I expect you do."

"He's the only one who understands." Harry insisted.

"I could understand, perhaps, if you told me," Lupin suggested. Harry looked him in the eye. Why not? It was going to happen sooner or later. After all, he couldn't keep this a secret for long. He had nearly revealed himself in one day more times than he cared to think about. Besides, he could trust Lupin, surely? After all, he had been his father's and Sirius's best friend. And he was in the Order. He could tell Lupin.

"If I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone. Not Ron, or Hermione, or McGonagall, not even Dumbledore. And especially not Snape," he looked warily over at Lupin. "Do you promise?"

"I can't guarantee that I won't talk to the Headmaster, but I won't say anything without consulting you first. You have my word."

"OK," Harry took a deep breath. "My name isn't James Antares."

"What is it?" Lupin said with a raised eyebrow. Harry gathered his courage.

"Harry Potter."

The silence that followed was deafening. Harry was aware that he was holding his breath, waiting for Lupin's reaction. He expected confusion, happiness, maybe even understanding.

He hadn't been expecting disgust.

"You are the most hateful person I have ever met," Lupin practically snarled. "How dare you mock Harry Potter? How dare you insinuate things that are beyond belief? Fifty points, Mr. Antares, and detention with me tonight. I will see you at seven o'clock." with that he turned on his heel and started towards the door.

"No!" Harry cried, desperate. "I'm telling the truth!"

"I doubt it," Lupin said coldly.

"Your best friend was Sirius Black. You're a werewolf whose nickname was Moony. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, you made the Marauder's Map. Sirius died over the holidays, he fell through the veil at the Ministry. I have a scar through which Voldemort sends messages. Snape hates me because I remind him of my father. Boggarts turn into Dementors for me. In the third year Sirius bought me a Firebolt."

Lupin had stopped halfway across the room and he turned to eye him with a sneer.

"You could have found out all of that from Hermione or Ron."

"I've been in Snape's Pensieve! I saw Sirius and my father terrorising him. My Patronus takes the form of Prongs –"

"Prove it," Lupin hissed. Harry stared at him blankly before drawing his wand and holding it out before himself. He pictured the photograph of his parent's wedding.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he roared. Prongs erupted before him, and Harry had to say that he had never looked so magnificent. He walked over to Lupin and bowed his head before the werewolf.

"It can't be…" Lupin whispered. Harry suddenly realised he was shaking. He collapsed into a chair and put his head down on the desk, still shivering. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Lupin's face, tears threatening to fall. "Harry?" he breathed. Harry leapt up form the chair and threw his arms around Lupin, crushing the werewolf, who returned the fierce embrace with equal ferocity.

"I'm so sorry!" Harry practically sobbed into his shoulder. Lupin was squeezing the air out of him.

"Why have you been hiding?" he hissed, though purely in concern rather than anger.

"Dumbledore made me. But I only managed one day, not even that, and Ron suspects something so it won't be long before Hermione works it out and now I've gone and broken Dumbledore's promise and…"

"Slow down," Lupin soothed. "We're going to see the Headmaster right now," he said firmly. Harry shook his head.

"I don't want to go to him, I don't want to bother him,"

"I'm sure he won't mind," Lupin said, and pulled away from Harry. He muttered a quick spell and Harry felt the tears dry, his nose unclog and the pressure behind his eyes seep away.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Come on," Lupin said comfortingly and lead the way out of the room. Harry shuffled down the corridor behind him and sighed heavily. He followed Lupin into the classroom and walked briskly to the back of the class. He gathered his bag and was swinging it over his shoulder when Ron grabbed his arm.

"What did he say? Where are you going now?"

Feeling he had to make up for his previous mistake, Harry did the best impression of Malfoy he could.

"What I said is none of your business, so kindly keep your overly-large nose out of it. As for where I am going, I am skipping the rest of the class to have afternoon with the crazy old loon who runs the school. I will be sure to bring you back a sherbet lemon. Good day," he sneered, and stalked out of the classroom. He caught Draco's eye and was pleased to see that the Slytherin was suppressing a wide grin. He heard Lupin dismiss the class as he waited outside in the corridor. The Defence teacher came out of the classroom with a half-irritated, half-amused look on his face.

"Ron didn't deserve that, but at least you didn't act like yourself!" he said, shaking his head. "Come on, we'd better get going before the rabble overflows into the corridors.

Feeling extremely pleased with himself, Harry strode down the corridor alongside his teacher.

"I assume you know of James's true identity then?" Dumbledore questioned as soon as they were seated. Harry blinked, shocked that Dumbledore could be so to the point. He had been expecting to be fending off pleasantries and pastries for at least five minutes before actually beginning any conversation.

"Yes, unfortunately," Lupin replied heavily, completely ignorant to the fact that it had been he who had saved Harry in the first place. "We were practising Patronus Charms,"

"Ah," Dumbledore said knowingly. "Well, there is a simple means to stop that occurring again, which I will discuss with Harry after I have spoken with you. But now, I must know that nobody else may find out about this. In fact, I was considering becoming Harry's Secret Keeper in this matter. Obviously, I cannot ask Professor Flitwick to assist me, as he would have to know the matter I was concealing. However, your training should be sufficient to help me." He turned to Harry. "After the spell is performed, you will not be able to tell anyone, even if you had wanted to."

"What about people that already know? Will they not know any more?" Harry asked. Dumbledore twinkled.

"No. They will retain their knowledge. But, of course, nobody else knows, do they?"

"No sir. Of course not," Harry replied promptly. Dumbledore twinkled at him again.

"Jolly good. Come back here then in an hour's time, and I'll get you started on changing your Patronus. I need to perform the Fidelius Charm, and it's probably best if you weren't here."

"Why?" Harry asked quizzically.

"Because it is a long, boring and infinitely tedious task." Dumbledore said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I shall see you in an hour."

The first thing Harry did was run down to the Slytherin common room. He yelled the password as he approached the wall and pelted through the gap. The Slytherins were fairly used to seeing him in their common room, but he still received a few hostile glares as he banged on the door to Draco's room.

"Draco! Are you in there?"

"Yes!" he heard the muffled voice from behind the door. Then suddenly the voice changed slightly. "The password's Harry,"

Harry blinked, completely confused.

"Harry," he said to the door.

"Antares, why are you naming the door?" said a cold voice behind him. Harry whirled around to see Zabini glowering at him. Despite having grown four inches, Zabini was still taller than him, and he looked positively evil in the half-light. Harry floundered for an excuse when he heard Malfoy's voice again.

"In Parseltongue, you idiot!" he cried exasperatedly.

"Oops," Harry said sheepishly. He glanced at the Slytherin crest on Zabini's robes and hissed, "Harry,"

With a clank, the door unlocked and swung open. Harry backed into the room, still keeping an eye on Zabini, who was glaring at him mistrustfully, and slammed the door in his face.

"Lock it with 'Potter'" Draco said. Harry did, and looked around. Draco wasn't there.

"Draco?" he asked warily. The blond head popped out of the bathroom door. His slender shoulders were bare, and Harry realised he had probably been taking a bath or something.

"Yes?"

"Finish whatever you're doing, I'll wait,"

"Fine," Draco replied with a shrug, and went back into the bathroom. Harry heard a splash and decided it was a bath.

"Why have you put a password on your door?" he called through, wandering around Draco's room. He had never really got to look around properly.

"Because I might have things in here I don't want other people to see,"

"Why didn't you have one before?"

"The whole Parselmouth thing kind of inspired me. I mean, someone could just make the door reveal its password. But if it were in Parseltongue, they would just hear a load of hissing. Only you, the Dark Lord and I could understand it."

"Plus anyone who had taken the Lingua Potion." Harry corrected, peering at what looked like one of those spheres with cottages in that you shake and it snows – only it seemed to be snowing permanently, and instead of a cottage, there was a tiny, blue-haired nymph preening in a pool of water.

"Yes, that too." Draco admitted, and Harry heard another soft splash. "Damn it." He heard softly. Harry frowned.

"You all right?" he asked. Draco sighed.

"I forgot the shampoo,"

Harry snorted.

"What's funny?" he asked defensively.

"You and your hair," Harry said derisively.

"I happen to have very fine hair," Draco replied indignantly. "Passed down through generations of Malfoys, we are proud of our luscious blond hair that feels like silk between the fingers…"

"Anyone would think you were gay, the way you go on about your hair," Harry snorted.

"No," Draco corrected. "I would be gay if I were to go on about _your_ hair all the time. Which is something I refrain from doing. And anyway, I wouldn't know which hair to insult, the current one or the previous," he said with an air of indifference.

"Why what's the difference between the two?" Harry asked impishly.

"What you've got at the moment, while the same colour, is longer and less rebellious than the mop which covered your head before,"

"And you've paid that much attention to notice?"

"I did happen to sit directly behind you for every Potions lesson in the second year. It's hard to forget such an atrocity when it's staring you in the face three times a week,"

"It's not that bad!" Harry protested.

"Believe me, it is," Draco said with conviction. "Now, are you going to bring me the shampoo or not?"

"Are you decent?"

"My private parts are suitably concealed beneath thick, ice-white foam. You precious eyes will not suffer if they happen to land on me, I can assure you. Now, come in,"

Harry walked into the bathroom and his mouth dropped open.

"Close your mouth, you're not a fish." Draco said irritably. Harry clenched his jaw tightly and gazed around the bathroom. It was massive – much larger than he'd thought when he'd glimpsed it on Monday – and looked very posh. Very Malfoy-esque. It reminded him strongly of the Prefect's bathroom that he had used in the fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament.

"Like it?" Draco said indifferently. Harry turned to him, and noticed with relief that he was indeed covered with particularly familiar ice-white foam.

"This is like a smaller, albeit nicer, replica of the Prefect's bathroom," he said. Draco cast him a suspicious look.

"How do you know about that? You're not a Prefect," he said. Harry shrugged.

"I used it in the fourth year,"

"Good for you, now, please get me my shampoo," Draco pleaded. Harry laughed

"Where is it?" he asked.

"Under the sink," he said, and pointed to the sink. Harry went over to it. As he ducked beneath the sink he had to admire the silver taps and marble surround to the perfectly white porcelain sink. In fact the whole room was done out in silver, white and marble. He peered into the cupboard, and laughed.

"Which one?" he said. Draco huffed behind him.

"The green bottle on the far left, possibly behind a blue bottle. Actually, bring both." He said. Harry found the bottles and picked them up. He tried to straighten, but forgot his head was in the cupboard and smacked it as he stood. He legs crumpled and he fell backwards, his vision blurred.

"Ow," he said thickly, and dropped the bottles.

"Oh honestly Potter, can't you do anything without causing a scene?" Draco said exasperatedly from the bath. "Close your eyes, I'm getting out." Harry obediently squeezed his eyes shut and lay back on the floor. He heard a splash and two gentle thuds, then a whooshing sound. His head was hurting. He heard gentle splashes as Draco walked over to him and slight thuds as he picked up the bottles. Then he felt Draco sit down beside him.

"Accio!" he called, and then "Sanare,"

"What are you healing?" he mumbled, glad that at least he was still lucid.

"Your head," Draco said firmly. "You cut it open on the sink,"

"Oh. Can you stop the headache? It feels as though someone's let a herd of Hippogriffs lose inside." He complained. He heard another soft spell and the pressure behind his eyes eased up, though he could still feel a gentle throbbing at the back of his head where it had greeted the sink.

"Can I open my eyes?" he asked.

"Yes, if you care for a half-naked me." Draco said brightly. Harry screwed up his face. "Thought not. Give me a second while a get back in," he said. Harry listened as he went back over and got into the bath with another splash. "You can open them now,"

Harry's eyes cracked open and he turned to Draco, who was back in the bath, head laid back to expose the white neck. He looked up when he felt Harry staring.

"You might as well sit down," he said and indicated to a chair in the far corner. Harry went and brought it across. "Now, tell me what you were in such a hurry about,"

"Dumbledore's making himself my Secret Keeper," he explained. "I have to go back up in half an hour, and he'll teach me how to change my Patronus,"

"What's with your Patronus?" Draco asked, and tipped some of the shampoo out onto his hair. "I mean, why did you refuse to show it?"

"It takes the form of my father's animagus. A stag. Lupin would have known straight away."

"A stag? I would have thought it would be something that represented yourself a bit more. Like, for instance, mine's a snake, and I'm Slytherin."

"I don't want a lion for a Patronus," he said flatly. Draco bit his lip as he rubbed the shampoo into his hair.

"We could think of something though. I don't know, maybe a Basilisk?"

Harry pulled a face.

"Like I want reminding of the fact that I have part of Voldemort inside me,"

"Really?" Draco said, interested, and sat up a bit straighter, pausing in his hair ministrations.

"Yeah, part of his powers were transferred to me when he tried to kill me the first time. That's the only reason I'm a Parselmouth."

"Rather fascinating. But come on, think. What do you want to change your Patronus to?"

"I'm not sure. But then, I don't think I really have a choice. I mean, when I first produced one, I wasn't thinking about what I wanted it to look like." He grinned ruefully at Draco. "I was trying to get rid of three very suspicious Dementors that chose to interrupt my Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. Still won though," he added, and was pleased to see Draco blush faintly beneath all the suds on his head.

"That was one of my less cunning plans," Draco muttered. Harry grinned.

"It was rather amusing to see your face,"

"You terrified me!" Draco objected.

"Finally admitting that you're scared of the great Harry Potter?"

"You wish,"

"Go on. Say it."

"Never,"

"Spoilsport,"

"Obnoxious prat,"

"That was uncalled for,"

"But true."

"Then you won't mind if I call you a… what was it? An insufferable, arrogant, selfish, egotistical, pathetic, snivelling –"

He stopped as he was hit in the face with a handful of ice-white foam. Spluttering indignantly, he swore and reached into the tub to grab some then flung it at Draco, who gave him an appraising look as the soap dripped down his face.

"What was the point in that? He asked, amused. Harry stared at him, perplexed. Draco smiled. "I'm having a bath. I'm in the bath. I'm washing my hair. Throwing soap at me is about as effective as pouring a bucket of water into the ocean," he pointed out, and Harry immediately felt very stupid. "But, it also means I feel no qualms about getting you back again!" Draco said happily, and this time Harry was hit with a handful of warm water.

"Oh very mature."

"I aim to annoy," Draco said pleasantly. Harry cocked his head, then stood up suddenly, remembering something he had seen in the cupboard. He was right, it was there. Keeping his back to Draco, he took the jug from the cupboard and filled it up with ice-cold water. Careful to keep it hidden, he turned to Draco and smiled beatifically. The Slytherin was eyeing him warily.

"Potter…"

"Harry," Harry corrected him.

"What are you doing?"

"Retaliating, of course," he said cheerfully, and in a single swift movement brought the jug out from behind his back and flung its contents at Draco. It hit its target, much to Harry's pleasure, and Draco screamed.

"You scream like a girl!" Harry chortled, filling the jug back up again. He turned to Draco and saw that he was shivering from head to… whatever was beneath the foam, soapsuds running down his body from on his head.

"You idiot!" he hissed, accidentally slipping into Parseltongue. "I'll freeze!"

"Perhaps, but you'll live!" Harry replied jovially, and was about to throw the second lot when Draco muttered a spell. He yelped as the entire contents of the bath shot out of its confinements and showered him. Spluttering, and absolutely soaked, he slipped on the water and landed on his backside. He looked up to see Draco standing with a long, dark green towel wrapped around his waist that went down to the floor.

"That's what you get when you mess with a Malfoy," he said triumphantly, and put out a hand to help Harry up. Harry took it, and with a wicked grin, yanked Draco down onto the wet floor with him. Draco landed on his side and swore.

"Ow!" he yelped, and glared at Harry. "Very mature," he imitated. Harry simply grinned at him, then looked at his watch.

"Crap! I'm meant to be at Dumbledore's office in five minutes, and I'm soaked!"

"Well, I would help you there, but I don't think you deserve it," Draco said pompously, and heaved himself up off the ground. He cast a drying spell on the floor, deliberately missing out Harry, who glowered at him.

"You honestly expect me to go see Dumbledore like this," Harry said, disbelieving, and spread his hands to indicate to his soaked Gryffindor robes.

"I refuse to dry you," Malfoy said, thinking, "but I suppose I could lend you some clothes."

"Fine, provided I don't end up looking like some aristocratic snob from the Middle Ages," he said huffily, following Draco out of the bathroom, each footstep producing a loud squelch. He watched as Draco rifled through his wardrobe, eventually pulling out a long robe not dissimilar to Ron's old dress robes, only in dark green, edged with silver. There were silver serpents around the neck, and it tied with what looked like a green, braided rope curtain tie. He also produced a pair of heeled, pointy black boots.

"Will these do?" he asked innocently. Harry stared at him.

"I seriously hope you're joking," he said slowly. Draco burst out laughing.

"Of course I am, you idiot!" he laughed and stuffed the robes back into the wardrobe. He threw a pair of jeans at Harry and opened a drawer to yank out a faded green T-shirt. Harry stared at them.

"I would never have imagined you in jeans, Draco," he said honestly, earning himself a sharp glance.

"You don't really think that I walk around wearing stuff like that all the time, do you? They're Malfoy dress robes, and I only wear them when necessary. Now get changed quickly."

Draco went back into the bathroom and Harry began taking off his robes. It normally wasn't a problem, but being wetter than a fish's wet bits, they were rather difficult to get off. He struggled for a few moments before sighing.

"Draco, will you help me get my robes off please?" he said finally, and immediately regretted it when Draco came back out in a dark green dressing gown and grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, I never knew your bread was buttered that way…"

"Draco! Just cast a goddamn spell, they're too wet and heavy for me to get off!" Harry cried exasperatedly. Still grinning, Draco flicked his wand and Harry's robes flew off to land in a heap on the floor. He went back into the bathroom. "Thank you!" Harry sighed, in just his boxers, and bent over to pick up the jeans. He yanked them up, and grimaced as he noticed they were a few inches too long. "You have quite long legs," he called through to the bathroom.

"Been watching me?" Draco said, sounding pleased with himself.

"Your jeans are a bit too long for me," Harry replied dryly, to which Draco laughed. Harry shook his head and tugged the T-shirt on over his head. It was about the right size. "I'm still wet, you know," he complained.

"Should have thought about that before you threw freezing cold water at me," Draco said lightly, and Harry smiled ruefully.

"I'll give you them back tomorrow," he called through. "See you later,"

"Have fun with Dumbledore! And tell me tomorrow what your Patronus is!"

"Will do!" Harry called, and unlocked the door, locking it again behind himself. He stopped when he saw every single Slytherin staring at him. He looked down at himself. He was wearing Draco's clothes, he had no shoes, and he was carrying a bundle of sopping wet Gryffindor robes in his arms as well as his school bag. His hand was still bound with Slytherin robes, plus he was dripping water off his hair and his feet were leaving slightly damp patches on the floor. He said the first thing that came to mind, and pointed accusingly at the door.

"He started it!"

* * *

OK I know that was random, sorry, but the water-fight just popped into my head an I felt that it needed writing...

Draeconin - the reason why Draco is a bit OOC is explained in... um... chapter 16, I think. You'll just have to wait ;P

reviews are nice...

smokey


	10. An Unprecedented Occurrence

Hugs for Jimbocous, who's sticking with me!

* * *

"What on earth happened to you?" Lupin asked incredulously as he pelted into Dumbledore's office five minutes later, completely out of breath. He had received more astonished stares during the trip up than he had in the past week, and Lupin wasn't helping.

"Had a small water fight, don't ask any more," he said, completely out of breath, and collapsed into a chair by the fire. "Where's the Headmaster?" he asked, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.

"Right here," said a warm voice behind him. Harry jerked upright.

"Sorry I'm late sir, I got a little caught up," he apologised quickly, and was glad when Dumbledore's face held no signs of annoyance.

"You are dripping on the Headmaster's furniture, Harry," Lupin chastised gently. Harry leapt up and stood over on the stone floor, causing Dumbledore to chuckle and perform a quick drying spell. Lupin cast a curious glance at the clothing and bandage on his hand, but said nothing.

"Would you mind performing the Patronus Charm for me please Harry?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "I would rather like to see you in action,"

Harry pulled out his wand, and conjured the image of his parent's wedding in his head, as usual.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The familiar stag burst from his wand to stand in front of Dumbledore, who looked pensive. He thought for a moment before turning to Harry.

"Now, when you conjure a Patronus, what do you think of? What is your happy memory?"

"My parent's wedding. I've got a photo of it."

"And are you expecting Prongs to appear?"

Harry had never really thought about it, but now Dumbledore mentioned it, he realised that he automatically connected Patronuses with Prongs. He nodded slowly, much to Dumbledore's apparent pleasure.

"Excellent. Right then, this time, I want you to think of a happy memory that is nothing to do with your parents, and if possible, try not to think of Prongs,"

"Right," Harry said dubiously. He cast his mind back to when he had won the Quidditch Cup in the third year, and said the incantation. Much to his dismay, it was still Prongs.

"Keep trying, Harry. Keep thinking of different memories." Dumbledore encouraged. So Harry kept trying.

Winning the House Cup, a different memory for each year; flying for the first time; his first real Christmas; the weeks he spent at the Burrow…

"It's not working," he said, defeated, after fifteen minutes. Lupin frowned at him.

"Think of a memory you'd never expect," Dumbledore suggested. Harry smiled wryly, and thought of the pointless water fight he had had with Draco earlier that evening.

"Expecto Patronum,"

A large dragon burst from the end of his wand. Harry gasped and stepped back, tripping over his bag which he had left no the floor. Lupin stood to help Harry, and the dragon reared back, giving an almighty roar, daring Lupin to come any closer to Harry. Lupin stepped back and sat back down, stunned. Dumbledore was eyeing Harry thoughtfully.

"Well, you seem to have succeeded. Just try and use that memory next time. That will be all Harry. Thank you,"

Harry nodded dumbly, and the dragon faded. He gathered his belongings in his arms and left with a nod to each Professor. He slowly walked down the stone steps, still confused as hell. He walked without thinking, retracing the familiar steps back to the Entrance Hall. He paused at the door to some of the upper floors and to Gryffindor Tower, then stopped.

He didn't feel like Gryffindors right now.

* * *

Nearly two hours later he was sat in a large, squashy armchair, a mug of tea wrapped in his hands. His robes were being dried, and for some reason he was feeling utterly miserable. He glanced up at his host, who was watching him sympathetically.

"I don't know why I'm feeling so depressed," he admitted.

"Were it somethin' Professor Dumbledore did?" Hagrid asked him. Harry shook his head.

"It's just… I don't know. I feel weird. It's probably nothing." He looked up at Hagrid and forced a smile onto his face. "But it's good to know that you're here if I ever need to talk. And thanks for sorting my robes, too," he said.

"You're welcome." Hagrid said happily, and clapped him on the shoulder. "But you ought to be getting back up ter school. They'll be worryin' where you are soon,"

"Thanks, Hagrid, "Harry said morosely, and quickly finished off his tea, then bundled up his robes and left the hut.

The grounds were dark – he supposed it was probably at least nine o'clock, meaning he had been out after curfew for an hour already. After arriving at the Entrance Hall, he had wandered out onto the grounds, skirting the perimeter of the grounds, not thinking of anything in particular, an odd sense of calm descended all around him. Nothing at the moment made sense – even less than before – and it made him eerily sure of the fact that he was, in fact, going mad.

And now, starting the walk back up to the castle, he was feeling the sae way. Almost detached, as though he was seeing everything through another set of eyes floating merrily in the sky above his head. He walked slowly and tiredly up to the Entrance Hall. There was nobody around, thank god, and he started up the steps that would take him to Gryffindor Tower. He was walking into the main stairwell when a drawling voice stopped him halfway up a set of stairs.

"Well, well," it sneered. "If it isn't Mr. Antares, finally deciding to turn up." Harry was too tired to bother, and in the oddly separate mood he had been thrown into, he did something he normally wouldn't have done.

He carried on walking.

"Antares!" Snape's voice rang out in the stairwell. Harry paused only briefly before continuing. He slowed to a stop and leaned against the railings. He hung his head over the banister and vomited down the stairwell. His knees were shaking, and his back throbbing. His face had grown paler, accentuating his blue eyes. His head was spinning; he hadn't felt this bad in a while. He stood up straight and tried to walk the rest of the way up the set of stairs, but only got halfway before his legs gave way beneath him. He landed painfully and swore as pain coursed through his arm where he had landed on it. Struggling to get back up to his feet, he vomited again on the stairs. Cold sweat mingled with his tears, and he stared in shock as a drop of blood fell to the ground. He lifted his hand to his ear and felt slick blood pouring from it. What was happening to him? His breath was becoming laboured now, and every now and then a bright flash of light played in front of his eyes. He was shivering, even though it was only September. He staggered upright and started toward the landing. He managed a few more steps, then collapsed again, and tumbled down the rest of them. He groaned at the bottom and pushed himself off the ground. He couldn't see very well, and his ears were ringing. Blood had soaked through his clothes and there was an acute pain in the back of his head. He could vaguely see Snape standing over him, mouth moving, but he wasn't sure anymore. Blood was leaking out of his eyes now, flooding into his vision. Suddenly, with an almighty crack, his scar burst open and blood gushed out of it. He screamed, and blacked out.

* * *

"James?"

Harry didn't open his eyes. The voice was tearful, feminine, and rather familiar. It was Hermione. He kept his eyes closed, tried to keep his breathing steady, and waited to hear more.

"Saying his name isn't going to make him wake up, you know," said Ron irritably.

"It might help," came the furious reply.

"I doubt it,"

"Well at least I'm trying,"

"It's been three days. God knows how much longer it'll be."

"He'll wake up soon, he'll be all right…"

"I don't know why you're so bothered anyway,"

"Ron!"

"Well I mean come on. He turns up, out of nowhere, and we don't know a thing about him. He's friends with Malfoy, he insulted me, he has afternoon tea with Dumbledore, and he looks different every time I see him!"

Harry's heart started thumping madly at this. The charm was wearing off…

"It doesn't mean we have to ignore him!"

"For god's sake Hermione, he's not Harry!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Harry waited anxiously for Hermione's reply.

"I never said he was." She said coldly.

"Look Hermione, it's fine that you're still upset about him, I mean, everyone knew how you felt about him…"

"He didn't,"

"Yeah, well, Harry was an ignorant prat."

Harry was saved from retorting by a new voice.

"Speak no ill of the dead, Weasel," Draco drawled from where Harry presumed was the doorway. "You never know who's listening."

Harry grinned and opened his eyes. Hermione and Ron were staring away from him, at Draco. Harry caught the Slytherin's eye, winked, and closed his eyes again, feigning sleep.

"I never knew you felt that way about Potter," Draco continued, cottoning on.

"Yeah well, you don't know much, do you, Ferret-Face?"

"Ron!"

"Well he doesn't,"

"Care to elaborate?"

"Well, Harry was almost as arrogant as you sometimes," Ron said, and sounded as though he could have gone on for a while. "He thought he was the centre of the universe, and although sometimes he was, he wasn't all the time,"

"Ron, how can you?"

There was a stomping, and Harry supposed that Hermione had fled the room.

"Nicely done, Weasel."

"I just hated the way Harry got all the attention. Even when something happened to me, he always ran off with the limelight and set it up somewhere else! It was horrible, and I just took it, I stayed his friend, even after all the abuse he hurled at me!"

"I think that's enough, Weasel," Draco said sharply. "Care to leave me alone with James? I feel I may be able to make him wake up,"

"Really?"

"Yes. I have an _idea_."

Harry grinned inwardly, guessing what Draco was going to do.

"You can watch, if you like,"

"This will be good. I can't wait to use your failed attempts against you."

"If you must," Draco said melodramatically, and came over to the side of Harry's bed.

"What are you going to do?"

"Turn off the lights," Draco ordered. "Now, go and hold onto his feet. He must be held down for this to work."

Harry knew that if Draco carried on much longer he was going to start laughing.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I have to be topless for it to work," Draco said, completely serious.

"If you say so…"

Harry felt something cold and soft over his eyes, then realised it was Draco's hands.

"I nearly forgot – take off your shoes and put them either side of the bed. Take off your robes and arrange them around James's feet."

"OK,"

Harry hoped he had clothes on underneath his robes. He opened his eyes, and felt Draco jump slightly as his eyelashes brushed his palms. He felt a slight pressure on his eyes, willing them closed, and obeyed. Draco leant over him and started talking.

"Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare! Exsuscitare!" he whispered in Harry's ear, making him twitch and shiver. Suddenly he yelled. "NUNC!"

With a yelp, Harry leapt into the air, glaring furiously at Draco, who looked immensely pleased with himself. It was dark in the room, but he could clearly see the amusement laced into Draco's silver eyes.

"Put the light on, Weasley," Draco said happily. "I've woken him up,"

The lights went on, and Ron stared at Harry.

"It worked!" he said, amazed. "I'm going to tell Hermione!" he said, and grabbed his robes and shoes, running out of the room. Once he was gone, Harry glanced at Draco. Their eyes met and they both burst out laughing uncontrollably.

"I got you something from Hogsmeade," Draco said when they had finally calmed down enough. Harry's eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yes, I remembered what you had said in Potions," he pulled a bag from the floor and dropped it on Harry's chest. The Gryffindor opened it curiously and nearly choked on the smell of putrid flesh that assaulted his nose.

"Dragon's liver," he gasped, eyes watering. Draco nodded, looking pleased.

"A get-well present, if you will."

"Thanks,"

"Ah, James,"

Harry turned to the door and saw that Dumbledore was stood there, wearing robes of royal blue with small silver stars spread down the sleeves. He was twinkling at the two boys.

"Professor," Harry greeted.

"It is good to see you awake,"

"Thank you sir,"

"Might I please ask you to leave, Mr. Malfoy? I would like to discuss with James the manner of his accident," Dumbledore said, firmly.

"Yes sir," Draco said obediently.

"Come back this evening," Harry said to Draco. "I need to talk to you about something,"

"Sure,"

"And also, it might be a good idea to get dressed," Dumbledore pointed out. Draco glanced down and realised that he still had no shirt on. Blushing fiercely, he grabbed his dark green shirt from off the floor and shrugged it on, looking sheepish. He nearly ran out of the room. Dumbledore gazed at Harry, who was still wearing Draco's clothes.

"Would you care to elaborate on why I encountered an extremely excited Mr. Weasley on the way here?"

"We played a prank on him, and he fell for it," Harry said with a grin. Dumbledore smiled down at him.

"I would expect no less."

Harry nodded stiffly. Dumbledore knew and Draco knew, but Dumbledore didn't know that Draco knew although Draco knew that Dumbledore knew… Merlin, his head was feeling cramped.

"Now, I must ask you exactly what happened last night James. As much as you can possibly remember."

"Well after I saw you, I went for a walk. I walked right along the edge of the grounds, then I went to see Hagrid. I felt kind of weird, like I wasn't really there. After I had a cup of tea with Hagrid, I came back up, just straight back. I was coming up the main stairwell when Snape caught me. He started talking to me, but I felt really sick. Then I started bleeding everywhere, and I was sick everywhere, and I fell down the stairs and landed next to Snape. Then my head… it felt like it was exploding. It hurt so much. I think it was my scar, but I'm not sure. That's all I remember."

"And you remember nothing after that?"

"No sir. What happened?"

"According to Professor Snape, you were writhing around on the ground calling out for Mr. Malfoy. Then an impenetrable shield formed around you, and you appeared to still. The shield had faded enough for us to retrieve you after half an hour,"

Harry knew he should be blushing that he had been screaming for Draco, but the horror was striking a deeper note.

"What do you think it was?" he asked quietly, dreading the answer.

"Either Voldemort, or something completely new,"

"Like what?" Harry frowned. Dumbledore looked reluctant to tell him.

"I'm afraid that I am not sure at the moment, my boy. I assure you that I have every possible teacher researching your symptoms, but as all things with yourself, I doubt the results will be ordinary,"

"So what am I going to do? I can't just stay locked up in the Hospital Wing for the rest of the year."

"Indeed. Madam Pomfrey has deemed you well enough to leave the Wing tonight and recommence lessons tomorrow. That is, if you feel up to it?"

"Of course."

"Remember, your identity cannot be revealed to anyone now. You are as safe as I can make you. Please remember that, Harry,"

"I will sir."

* * *

You know you want to review. You're just contemplating doing it or reading another fic. But please, listen to that small voice and do it. It makes me so happy.

Also thanks to those of you who reviewd the previous chapters! Especially Draeconin and Jimbocous!

smokey


	11. RonBashing

"Your brain is so minute that if a hungry cannibal cracked it open, there wouldn't be enough inside to cover a small water biscuit."

"Yeah? Well maybe if you didn't spend so much time in front of the mirror, you might have friends that care – because I can tell you now, I don't care what you think of me! I have friends that care about me, and I'm not useless to them!"

"Oh please. You are as much use as a hole in the head, an affliction I am sure you are most familiar with, having never had a brain."

This time, it took Dean and Seamus's best efforts to stop Ron from hurling himself at Draco. The redhead was thrashing about in a desperate attempt to get at the Slytherin, who was leaning casually against the wall outside the Transfiguration, an extremely smug look on his face. Hermione pushed past the struggling Ron and marched up to Draco.

"You know, if you glare any harder you'll have steam coming out of your ears," Draco commented mildly. In the split-second that she raised her hand to slap him across the face, a familiar, bandaged hand shot out and grabbed her wrist as she raised her arm.

"No," he said firmly. Hermione gaped at him.

"Don't think I'm going to take orders from you," she gasped out. Harry looked mildly amused.

"Fine then. Slap him. But bear in mind that Snape is coming down the corridor and no doubt this spineless git will stir up such a fuss that you won't see daylight for the next few days," Harry replied pleasantly. Hermione shot him a dubious look, then glanced down the corridor. Sure enough, the Potions Master was billowing his way towards them. Having got him riled enough the previous lesson, Harry doubted it would be a good idea to aggravate him even more. He released Hermione's hand and stepped up to Draco.

"Get you head out of your arse," he growled in the Slytherin's ear, who looked at him innocently.

"But provoking him is so much fun!" he said almost indignantly.

"Then find other ways to entertain yourself," Harry hissed, switching to Parseltongue. Draco had kept the original batch of potion and had it stored up in his room. He took three drops a day and happily conversed with Harry whenever he felt like it. When Snape found out, he had tried to confiscate the hoard, but Dumbledore had thought it was an interesting idea.

Now, two weeks after his incident, Harry was no closer to finding out what was the matter with himself. Neither was Dumbledore, apparently – whenever Harry had gone to see him, he had just said that further investigations were being carried out.

He stalked into the classroom as McGonagall let them in. Ron was still miffed about the prank he and Draco pulled in the Hospital Wing, but at least he was on speaking terms with Harry. Hermione, on the other hand, had frosted over almost completely, and ignored him most of the time. When she wasn't ignoring him, she was biting his head off. He guessed she might have found something out, but had no intention of prodding her with a stick until she told him everything.

"Today we will be having a closer look at Animagi," McGonagall said once they were all sat down, quills, parchment and textbook out. Harry was sat at the back of the room beside Draco, as usual, and had been considering falling asleep when she had woken him with that sentence. "Now, I went over the whole process briefly in your third year, but as with most subjects, the Headmaster has deemed it necessary to teach you more about it.

"I have a list here of a few people. Hermione Granger, Padma Patil, James Antares, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Terry Boot – will you six please see me at the end of the lesson. I have a proposition Professor Dumbledore would like me to discuss with you."

They spent the next hour taking detailed notes from both the textbook and McGonagall's lectures. Harry was aware that at one point he definitely fell asleep, because he was suddenly aware that his quill wasn't in his hand. Draco was grinning at him.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty!" he hissed gently. Harry scowled and buried his face into his arms. He lifted his head and ran his fingers over his forehead. He could feel the faint tracings of a lightning bolt scar beginning to creep into view. He cast Draco a worried glance.

"Can you redo the charm for he?" he hissed. Draco nodded. Dumbledore had shown him the charm he needed to keep up the appearance of James Antares, since they were spending so much time together, so Harry didn't have to go to the Headmaster very time it started wearing off. Draco quickly performed the charm, and grinned at Harry.

"You know, I could easily have just turned your hair bright pink," he said mischievously. Harry frantically grabbed a chunk off hair and yanked a few strands out, inspecting them against his parchment. They were black.

"That wasn't funny," he scowled.

"The look on your face was worth it though," Draco said solemnly.

The bell rang to signal the end of the lesson. Harry stood up unsteadily and packed his belongings back into his bag. He made his way to the front of the class and was about to go through the door when a hand grabbed his shoulder and hauled him back in. It was Hermione.

"McGonagall wants to see us, remember?"

"Oh… yeah, sure," Harry mumbled, walking over to the desks in front of the teacher's desk and collapsing into one. He only raised his head when McGonagall started speaking.

"I have called you behind because the Headmaster thinks it would be a good idea for a select few o the oldest students to become Animagi," she said clearly. Muttering erupted around the six people as she continued. "Should you wish to learn the process, you will need to sacrifice one night each week to attend meetings. This will be like any other after-school club – should you fail to attend, you will find yourself struck off the list. It is not something to be taken lightly, and I shall warn you now, if at any point I deem any one of you unable to complete the course, I will remove you from it," she cast her piercing gaze over the small group, who were silent again. "Is that completely clear?"

The gathered students nodded uncertainly. Hermione stuck her hand up.

"Do we get to chose what our Animagus forms are?" she asked.

"Neither I nor Professor Dumbledore will force your Animagus. However, it has been found that it is the subconscious mind that chooses the form, rather than the conscious one."

"How long will it take for us to learn?" asked Terry Boot.

"With the proper training, two months."

"Do we have to?" asked Padma Patil.

"Not at all, if you would rather not," McGonagall replied, sounding surprised. "However, I must remind you that the option will not be extended again…"

"I'm sure. I don't want to do it," she said firmly.

"Well then, you may leave. Are there any more who would rather not partake in the course?"

"I don't really want to thanks, if I don't know what I'll end up as." Boot said.

"Any others?"

When the others did not step forward, she dismissed Boot and Padma and turned back to the remaining four, her gaze lingering upon each of them Harry couldn't help but notice that the look she gave Draco was one of reluctance edged with mistrust.

"I will see you all on Wednesday at five o'clock. Good day to you all,"

Ron was lying on his bed when Harry got up to their dormitory later that evening. He had gone back to the dungeons after Transfiguration and had been extremely amused to watch him sort through his room looking for a particular quill that he had been given for his birthday the previous. His birthday, it transpired, was the twelfth of December. It seemed fitting that it would be in winter – cold and collected, just like Malfoy.

"Remembered which house you're in?" Ron said acidly from the bed. Harry stopped, startled.

"I had to go see McGonagall after Transfiguration, you know that…"

"Yeah but so did Hermione, and she got back hours ago," Ron sat up and glared at Harry. "Have you been down in the dungeons again?" he demanded. Harry stared.

"Draco's my friend!" he objected. Ron sighed and his looked slightly less put-out.

"You see, that's the problem. Malfoy doesn't have friends. He has acquaintances. He has henchmen. He has slutty girlfriends. He has enemies. But he doesn't have friends. He uses people that are fool enough to trust him."

"That's not true!" Harry objected stoutly. "He is my friend!"

"Maybe he's your friend. But you're not his. Do you know what?"

"What?" Harry snapped irritably.

"When I was in the first year, Malfoy approached one of my fiends and said something along the lines of 'Ron is trash, his whole family is. On the other hand, my family is stuck-up and evil, so you'd be better off friends with me'. That day was one of the most humiliating I've ever had to brave. Because I'd only known this new friend a few hours, and already I'd been brought down by a smarmy git who was so obviously higher in society, and right in front of this new friend."

"What's your point?"

"That Malfoy is an evil bugger?" Ron said simply.

"But your friend didn't take his offer, did he? He stayed your best friend for five years. So I'll ask you again. What's your point?"

"That Malfoy is below any bar the rest of us would even consider. He's a selfish, pretentious, manipulative git. You can do better than him for a friend. You know you can. I don't want to see any of my friends manipulated by that bastard."

"Why does it bother you so much? He doesn't care that I'm friends with you," Harry pointed out.

"I give in!" Ron said acerbically, and lay back down. "Obviously, I'm not up to your standards. Go on, go play with your aristocratic little Slytherins."

"Would you stop being so immature!" Harry growled. Ron sat up again, glaring.

"How am I being immature?" he snarled in return.

"Well, for starters, you're getting jealous because I have more than two friends," Harry pointed out. "And then you get all mopey when I mention Harry Potter…"

"You have no idea about that!" Ron yelled suddenly. "You weren't his friend for five years!"

"And neither were you, from the way you speak about him sometimes," Harry said coldly.

"Yeah, well, you never had to live in his shadow, did you? You know, every time I did something, he would go and do something better. He was always one up on me. Even when we were level, he got the attention. In the second year, we both received Special Awards for Services to the School, but it was Harry's that got put in the display case next to Tom Riddle's. Mine got stuffed into a case in a dusty corner where the only people seeing it would be people on detention cleaning the damn things without magic." Ron was getting more worked up as he went. "You know, I have five older brothers, so it takes a lot to measure up to them. I always knew that people had expectations of me, and that I often wouldn't be able to live up to them. But nothing pissed me off the way Potter did. People didn't expect the same of me – the assumed I could never compare. I was degraded when I was next to him! Each and every year! Third year, him and Hermione got to run off and save Sirius while I was stuck with a broken leg! Fourth year was unbelievable – he entered himself for the Triwizard tournament, refused to admit it, won it, and got the most publicity in one year than most of the rest of the school put together! Then at the end of the fifth year, he basically told us all we weren't good enough and tried to play hero and go rescue Sirius by himself!"

While talking, Ron had stood up and slowly approached Harry, who had backed away, and was now standing with his back to the wall, a furious, red-faced Ron mere feet from him. He bit his lip.

"I expect it never occurred to you that he cared, when he did that in fifth year? That he didn't want you to come because by that point he had realised that those close to him were always those who got hurt? Or did you mss that fact?"

Ron's face screwed up in suspicion.

"I don't trust you, Antares. You know things you shouldn't. There's something weird about you, I can feel it. I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"More's the pity, we could have started your personality from scratch," Harry bit back without thinking. He saw Ron's fist, then saw nothing.

When his eyes flickered open later, the first thing he saw was nothing. For a few panicked seconds, he thought Ron had blinded him, but when he waved his hand in front of his face he could see the faint outline. He was lying on the floor – which was obvious, enough – and various parts of his body hurt like hell. He guessed Ron must have vented his anger for a while after he had been knocked out.

Shifting awkwardly into a sitting position, he dug his hand into his pocket for his wand, and his stomach dropped when he couldn't find it. Damn, the bastard had taken it. Fuming, he stood up slowly and felt around the wall. It seemed to be a small broom cupboard, complete with brooms. It was only about a two metres square, and the door was locked. Growling, he slid down the door and sat down angrily. He peered at his watch. The numbers showed 2:13.

He waited.

He dropped off to sleep, and as woken again by the noises of students milling past him in the corridor on the other side of the door.

"Hey! Help! Someone, help! I'm stuck in the broom cupboard!"

He stopped when he realised nobody was listening, and when he realised that he sounded extremely stupid. Ron must have put a Silencing Charm on the door or something. Glancing at his watch again, the luminous dial showed that it was 8:27. He reached a hand up Draco's T-shirt (he had become rather attached to Draco's clothes) to scratch between his shoulder blades furiously, then got ready to go back to sleep for another hour.

The next time he woke up, it was because someone had opened the door and light was streaming into the cupboard. Harry had given up sleeping against the door and was now curled up on the floor, using his arm as a pillow. He blinked sleepily at the figure in the doorway, eyes unfocused.

"Antares?"

It was Snape. Harry sat up slowly, his body protesting from the bruises, his joints stiff. He scrubbed fiercely at his back then stared back up at Snape. A white-blond head peered over his shoulder.

"Hi Draco," Harry said, his head feeling oddly light. "How are you?"

"Better than you by the looks of things," the Slytherin replied nervously. Harry looked down at himself, but couldn't see anything much wrong. He gazed back up at Snape, then suddenly realised that his left eye hurt. He raised his hand to it and flinched. It was painful to touch and he brought his fingers away slick with blood, but where from he wasn't sure. His hand itself was black and blue and looked swollen, as though it was broken. He focused his right eye on Snape.

"That hurts," he said, confused.

"I expect it does." Snape sneered. "Come on, you're coming to the Hospital Wing."

Harry tried to get to his feet but they ached, whether from pain of fatigue he wasn't sure, and he couldn't stand up. He struggled for a moment, one hand grasping the shelves, trembling with the effort. His feet were unsteady and as he raised himself off the floor his arm gave way and he landed hard on his tailbone, releasing a sharp cry of pain. He was about to try again, face burning with humiliation, when two pale arms appeared from behind him and wrapped themselves around his chest, heaving him upright. He stumbled once standing, but Draco's hold on him held him upright.

"Come on, I haven't got all day," Snape ground out irritably. Harry leaned on Draco and they made their way slowly towards the Hospital Wing.

"I must say, I am confused as to why you didn't try and open the door by yourself, or heal yourself – simple Healing Charms are fourth-year work." Dumbledore said, concerned, as he sat by Harry's bed. The black-haired boy had been cleaned up immediately by Madam Pomfrey, only to have Dumbledore sweep down and start grilling him.

"I told you, I don't have my wand with me," Harry replied for the third time. "Whoever attacked me took it off me," he said tiredly, and lay back against the pillows.

"And you are sure that you don't know who attacked you?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"In that case, I expect you to be attending lessons again by tomorrow."

"I've got an Animagus meeting with Professor McGonagall tonight," Harry remembered. "Can I still go to that?"

"By all means."

"Thank you sir."

Dumbledore twinkled at him.

"It is a good thing that Mr. Malfoy worked out where you were when he did. We were about to send out a search party to Hogsmeade."

"What?" Harry said, suddenly awake.

"Yes. You were first noticed to be missing when Mr. Longbottom woke up this morning and realised that he hadn't seen you all night. We checked with Mr. Malfoy and he said you had let his company at eight o'clock. We searched the castle during the first lesson, but found nothing. As I said, we were about to send out a search party to go into Hogsmeade when Mr. Malfoy came running up from the dungeons, yelling that he knew where you were. You ought to thank him."

"I will," Harry promised.

"In fact, it was with a curious wording that he told us that he was aware – he said, 'I solemnly swear I know where he is.' Does that mean anything to you?" Dumbledore said knowingly.

Harry grinned.

"Yes sir. I know what he means."

* * *

Yeah, I know it's cheesy. I'll get over it.

By the way, me and FireOpal have started a HPDM C2, you can access it from my profile, and if you want to staff let me or FireOpal know and we'll get back to you. Happy C2ing! Even though that's not a word...

Reviews are nice... meh!

smokey


	12. Reminisce

"Animagus training is a precise and complicated process. It requires strength of will and good concentration. It is also very dangerous. The chances of you becoming an inanimate Animagus are high if you do not pay the correct amount of attention."

"Inanimate?" Zabini asked, confused.

"Indeed. Imagine, for example, if rather than becoming, say, a bowtruckle, you became a wheelbarrow. That would not bode well for you. In fact, I suspect I would be rather annoying."

"Oh,"

"Now, there are three things to bear in mind when you transform. Three things to focus on. Your Animagus form, the incantation, and you being in your Animagus form. Now, next week we shall be finding out your Animagus forms, then for the rest of the time we shall be working on the actual transformations. Today, however, I want you just to take notes."

"So when do I get my map back?" Harry whispered as he sat down beside Draco and took out his quill and some parchment.

"You can have it now," Draco replied, and pulled the Map out of his bag, handing it to Harry, who scanned it quickly. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Can I borrow your wand?" he asked Draco.

"Where's yours?"

"Whoever attacked me nicked it."

"Are you sure you don't know who it was?" Draco asked, eyeing him shrewdly. Harry shook his head.

"Sure. Now, pass me your wand." He took the wand from Draco, and tapped the Map. "Mischief managed."

"I'll have to remember that."

"Yes. You will. I don't want anyone else finding out I've got a complete Map of Hogwarts."

"Incidentally, I couldn't help notice several secret passages leading off the map. I don't suppose you want to tell me where exactly they end up?"

"Well, there's seven, I think, all together. Filch knows about four of them, so I've never used them. There's one behind a mirror or tapestry somewhere, but Fred and George said it had caved in, so I've never used that one either. There's one which is covered by the Whomping Willow, and that leads to the Shrieking Shack. I've used that one a few times, but not for social excursions. Then there's the one behind the statue of the one-eyed witch on the third floor. It leads up into the cellar of Honeydukes. I use it all the time."

"We have to use it again some time, you know," Draco said seriously.

"How did I know you were going to say that?"

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Antares! Quiet!" McGonagall barked.

"Can we go tonight?" Draco whispered enthusiastically, bending his head over his parchment. Harry thought for a moment.

"I suppose so. I'll come down at eleven. Be ready."

When Harry quietly hissed the password to Draco's room, the Slytherin looked extremely confused as Harry closed the door behind him. He was gazing at Harry, face screwed up in suspicion.

"Who's there?"

"Me, of course. Who'd you think?" Harry asked incredulously, and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. Draco yelped in surprise and only just caught himself before he fell off the bed.

"You have an Invisibility Cloak?" he asked, shocked. Harry grinned.

"It was my dad's. Dumbledore gave me it for Christmas in first year."

"So that's why I could never find you, no matter where I staked out,"

"You used to come out looking for me?" Harry laughed.

"I spent most of last year skulking in corners." Draco admitted. "Can I see it?"

Harry passed the silvery cloth to him, and watched as Draco ran his fingers over the smooth fabric. He suddenly realised that he'd revealed yet another one of his deepest secrets to his old archenemy. Two months ago, he would have found the situation preposterous.

"With this and the Map, I could go pretty much anywhere without being caught."

"You can't begin to imagine what I would have given for these two items the last five years. They're every student's greatest wish, to be able to sneak around uncaught. And these are the two implements that would allow it!"

"I guess I'm just lucky,"

"That actually explains quite a lot. Including that time when you appeared in Hogsmeade without your body."

"Sorry about that. I just couldn't resist."

"Yes, well. We ought to get going."

"Indeed. Well, come here."

Draco stood up and moved over to Harry, who slung the Cloak over them both.

"This thing used to be big enough for Ron and Hermione as well, but now, we're lucky if we can get two of us under without one of our feet trailing around behind us."

"We fit fine," Draco pointed out. Harry ignored him and held the Map out in front of him. The silently exited the Slytherin dungeons and made their way up through the labyrinth of dark, gloomy corridors up to the main school. Once there, Harry trod the familiar path to the third-floor corridor. Considering he had never been under the Cloak before, Draco was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping close to Harry without getting in his way. Not once did Harry have to hiss at him, something that had used to happen with Ron quite frequently.

"This corridor was off-limits in first year." Draco whispered suddenly in Harry's ear. Harry jumped slightly and growled gently.

"Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry," Draco apologised. "But it was, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was." Harry paused. "Don't you know what it was all about?"

"I know you had something to do with it – you're always involved – and I know that you got sixty points for whatever it was you did. But I don't know what happened, or anything."

"Funny, Dumbledore said the whole school knew. Oh well." He paused again. "Do you know what the Philosopher's Stone is?"

"It transforms any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker immortal," Draco replied with a nod.

"Well, it was hidden here in Hogwarts in the first year. A load of the teachers put up various protections – Hagrid provided a three-headed dog, Sprout a Devil's Snare, then a flying key which was a mix of Flitwick and Hooch, I think… um… McGonagall's giant chess set,… oh, a troll from Quirrell, and a bunch of potions with a riddle from Snape. Then Dumbledore's trick of course. The Mirror of Erised."

"What's that?" Draco prompted. He was watching Harry intently, listening with an earnest interest.

"It's a mirror that shows you the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart. Now, how did he say it… oh yes. 'Only someone who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to take it out of the mirror. Other wise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking elixir.' Or something along those lines." Harry frowned.

"So what happened down there?"

"Well, we got past Fluffy, the dog, by playing music. The Devil's Snare you get rid of with fire. The key for the next door was charmed to fly, so you had to use the broomsticks to catch it. Ron conducted the chess game, and sacrificed himself to win. The troll had already been knocked out, and Hermione solved the riddle so we knew which potion to take. She went back to help Ron and get Dumbledore, and I went forward to the Mirror."

"And then?"

"And there, standing before the Mirror, was Quirrell."

Draco's mouth dropped open.

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. He had Voldemort possessing him in a way – he was kind of attached to the back of his head. He spoke to me. Said that if I gave him the Stone and joined him, he would spare my life. He kept on taunting me, saying my parents had died begging him for mercy, that I would be wasting their sacrifice if I died refusing to give him the Stone…"

"_Better save yourself and join me… or you'll met the same end as your parents… they died begging me for mercy…"_

"_LIAR"_

"_How touching… I always value bravery… Yes, boy, your parents were brave… I killed your father first and he put up a courageous fight… but your mother needn't have died… she was trying to protect you… now, give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain…"_

"Harry?"

Harry jerked suddenly back to reality. Draco's hand was on his shoulder and he was aware of two tiny, wet streaks down his own face. He scrubbed at them furiously.

"Quirrell couldn't touch me because of the protection my mother left on me when she died. I kept him away by touching him. Dumbledore came eventually and took care of it all. I woke up three days later in the Hospital Wing." He finished numbly. He stopped beside the statue and tapped it with his wand, muttering "Dissendium"

"Incredible," Draco whispered as the hump slid away, revealing the entrance to the passageway. Harry motioned to the hole.

"You first. I'll be right behind you."

"What, I just climb into it?"

"Yes. You'll slide to the bottom. You'll be fine."

Looking dubious, Draco hoisted himself up and slid feet-first down the chute. Harry heard a faint yelp as he landed. He pushed the Map into his pocket and took off the Cloak, pushing it down the chute. He climbed in after it and slid down after Draco. However, Draco had decided not to move so there resulted in a tangle of Harry, Draco and Cloak on the floor of the passageway.

"Let's get going," he said brusquely, picking himself up off the floor and stuffing the cloak into his pocket. Draco clambered to his feet and followed, nervous quiet settling around them. After an age, the passageway sloped up and ten minutes later they reached the trapdoor.

"Where does this come out again?" Draco asked, peering at the trapdoor.

"Honeydukes cellar," Harry replied shortly, and beckoned Draco to him, covering the two of them with the Cloak again. He pushed on the trapdoor and it lifted, leaving a large enough gap for them to climb out. They made their way through up to the store, and Draco pulled out a bag.

"Would you hate me if I were to borrow something without asking?" he looked at Harry innocently. Harry's closed mood immediately disappeared.

"I suppose we may as well."

Grinning like anything and keeping close to Harry beneath the Cloak, he began taking various sweets off the shelves and putting them into his bag, which he suspected had wizardspace within it. He added at least one of nearly every sweet, and made a point of taking lots of blood-flavoured lollies.

"How can you eat them?" Harry asked incredulously. "They're disgusting!"

"I rather like them," Draco replied, grinning, and motioned towards the door.

"Can we go to the other shops as well?"

"I don't see why not. Let's see if the door's locked first."

"Alohomora!"

The door swung open.

"I expect it would have had stronger charms on than that." Harry said, surprised.

"They have simple ones on the inside. It'll be harder to get into the other shops."

They closed the door silently behind themselves and walked across the street to Zonko's. Draco pulled out his own wand – oak and unicorn tail hair – and tapped the lock.

"Aperire." He whispered. There was a click and the door swung open. They stepped inside and closed the door.

"How did you know that spell?"

"My father,"

They proceeded to rob half the stores in Hogsmeade, including several bottles of Butterbang – a newer, stronger version of Butterbeer – and a large bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. After two hours of pillaging the village, they finally went back to Honeydukes and back into the passageway. At the base of the chute to the one-eyed witch, Draco grabbed Harry's arm.

"Hang on. We can have a Butterbang each now," he suggested. Harry shrugged, and sat down on the floor. Draco slid down the wall and sat down beside him, rummaging in his bag for a bottle each. He handed one to Harry, and with a flick on his wand opened them both. Harry took a swig and coughed.

It tasted the same as ordinary Butterbeer, but was sweeter and much more potent than its ordinary counterpart. Draco smirked at him from behind his own bottle.

"I forgot you'd never had any before."

"How convenient," Harry grumbled. He leaned his head back against the wall and took out his wand, to provide them with slightly more substantial light. The Lumos charm it produced was much more powerful than Draco's given the core, and it illuminated the passageway brilliantly.

"What happened in the second year?" Draco suddenly.

"What?"

"I said, what happened in the second year?" Draco repeated impatiently. "Oh come on, Potter. Every year something special has happened to you, in the summer. Don't think nobody's noticed. It's becoming a regular pattern. You know the school year's about to end when Harry Potter escapes the Dark Lord's clutches once more,"

"I suppose it is getting cliché, isn't it?" Harry said with a wry grin. "OK then, second year."

"Slytherin's heir."

"Precisely. That diary which your father gave to Ginny Weasley In Flourish and Blotts happened to be the diary of a seventeen year old Tom Riddle. He possessed Ginny through the diary and got her to release Slytherin's monster and try and kill the Muggleborns. Fortunately, they always saw it as either a reflection or through a screen of some sort. This meant they were only Petrified."

"So I'm guessing the monster was a Basilisk?"

"I had to fight it. I went down into the Chamber of Secrets to rescue Ginny. Tom was draining her of her life, and using it to come back. He set the Basilisk on me. Dumbledore sent me his phoenix with the Sorting Hat. I pulled Gryffindor's sword out of the Hat and used it to kill the Basilisk. Then I destroyed the diary. Tom was gone, and I brought Ginny back out of the Chamber."

"Where was the Chamber in the end then?"

"The entrance is – or maybe was, I don't know what's been done about it – in the disused girl's bathroom. You have to speak Parseltongue to one of the taps and it opens the entrance."

"So that's the girl who was killed! Moaning Myrtle was the Muggleborn killed the first time around."

"Yes. We had to ask her for help, against my better judgement."

"All right, what happened in third year then? I'm guessing it had something to do with Sirius Black."

"Yes. You knew he was my godfather before I did. I didn't find out anything about what he'd done until I overheard Fudge, McGonagall, Flitwick and Madam Rosmerta talking about it in the pub. Well, at the end of the year, we went down to Hagrid' hut to comfort him, the night Buckbeak was to be executed."

"What, the Hippogriff?"

"Yes, the one you tried to get killed." Harry replied coldly.

"Sorry about that." Draco replied hastily. "Carry on."

"Well, as we were leaving his hut that night, a large black dog kidnapped Ron and took him under the Whomping Willow. Me and Hermione followed them, and found out that it took us to the Shrieking Shack. We found Ron there, and his leg was broken. It was then that we found out who the dog was."

"Who?" Draco asked, paying close attention.

"Sirius Black."

"He was an Animagus?"

"Yes. So was my father, and Peter Pettigrew."

"What were your father and Pettigrew's forms?"

"My father was a stag. Prongs. That's the form my Patronus used to take. And Pettigrew was a rat." He paused. "Do you remember, when you came to our compartment in the first year on the Hogwarts Express? Do you remember that a rat bit Crabbe's finger?"

"It was Goyle's finger, but yes. Hang on, are you saying that was Pettigrew?" Draco asked incredulously. Harry nodded.

"He'd been posing as a rat for twelve years. You see, Sirius was my parent's Secret Keeper. But he convinced them to change it to Pettigrew at the last moment. They did, and he went straight of and told Voldemort that he could give him my parent's whereabouts. Voldemort killed them that night."

"… _Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… it must have been the finest moment of your life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters…"_

"_You don't understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!"_

"_THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE…"_

"Harry?" said Draco's voice quietly. "You're doing it again."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, shaking his head.

"You don't have to tell me," Draco said gently.

"No, I want to." Harry took a deep breath. "Lupin came and he and Sirius explained everything to us. Then Snape came, and he tried to kill Sirius. We knocked him out with three Stunners. Then Lupin and Sirius made Wormtail change back. They were going to kill him, but I persuaded them not to. That was one of the worst choices I've ever made." Harry said bitterly, then carried on. "We started going back to school, but then Lupin started to change. He hadn't taken his Wolfsbane, and Wormtail got away again. Sirius changed into Padfoot and he tried to keep Lupin off us, but he was injured. I ran after him and we both collapsed on the side of the lake. The Dementors came, hundreds of them, and tried to perform the kiss on Sirius and me. Then someone cast a massively powerful Patronus, and I passed out."

"Is that it?" Draco asked, puzzled. Harry took another swig of Butterbang and laughed.

"Not at all. I've still got another three hours to tell you!"

"Exactly three hours?" Draco sounded sceptical.

"Exactly. See, when we woke up, we tried to persuade Dumbledore to believe us about what had happened, but he said he couldn't sway the Ministry without Wormtail as evidence. So he basically told us to do something illegal,"

"Dumbledore? What did he make you do?"

"He made us use a Time-Turner. Hermione had had it for the whole year, it's how she had been getting to all her lessons. Hermione and me went back three hours and freed Buckbeak. Then we waited whilst our other counterparts were in the hack, talking. When we came back, I went to the lake. You see, when I had passed out before, I thought I had seen my father standing on the edge of the lake, casting a Patronus. I was wrong. I had seen myself. I cast a Patronus that got rid of the hundred Dementors. Then Hermione and me flew Buckbeak up to the office where Sirius was being kept and we freed him. He took Buckbeak with him."

"You know, you telling me this actually explains a lot of what happened these past five years. Now, I know what happened fourth year, my father told me everything – but what about last year?"

"You won't know everything about fourth year. Once Voldemort and I used our wands against each other, they formed a link. In short, my wand won a little battle they were having, and his was forced to relive the past murders he'd carried out. The ghosts of his victims popped out of the end of his wand. That included Cedric, and my parents. They told me what to do. I got away and used the Portkey to bring Cedric's body back to Hogwarts. Then Moody took me away. Only it turned out he wasn't Moody – he was Barty Crouch in Polyjuice."

"That's a bit extreme,"

"Dumbledore found me before Crouch could kill me though."

"So what about last year then?"

"Voldemort was sending me visions. Dumbledore got me to take Occlumency lessons with Snape, but he got stressed out and refused to teach me. I received a vision in which Sirius was being tortured in the Department of Mysteries. So of course, I went straight off and took Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna Lovegood off with me. We got there, and I foolishly took the prophecy about me off the shelf. You r father was there. He tried to take it off me. A fight ensued, during which Ron went temporarily out of his head, Hermione was sent unconscious, Neville's nose got broken so he couldn't say any proper spells, Luna seemed fine, and Ginny's ankle got broken or something. Then some Aurors arrived, along with Sirius and Lupin. They were fighting the Death Eaters, and Sirius…"

Harry choked as the memories he had worked to hard to crush came flooding back.

_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest_

_It seemed to take an age for Sirius to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch._

_Harry heard Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream, but knew it meant nothing – Sirius had only fallen through the archway, he would reappear from the other side any second…_

_But Sirius did not reappear._

"Harry?"

_Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais. Harry, still staring at the archway, was angry with Sirius now for keeping him waiting – _

_But some part of him realised, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before… Sirius what risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him… if Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he really could not come back…_

"I went after her, I tried to avenge him, but I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. So Voldemort came and tried to kill me… he tried to get Dumbledore to kill me. I couldn't do anything. And it was my entire fault, if I had tried to learn Occlumency, if I had listened to Snape and not thought I knew better, then he would still be alive…"

He was once again aware of the tears streaming down his face. This time, however, he did not wipe them away. He glanced at Draco. The blond Slytherin was sitting with his long legs out in front of him, shoulder touching Harry's, nearly empty Butterbang held loosely.

"I'm not going to say that it wasn't your fault, that it couldn't have been helped. Because that would be condescending, and you deserve better." He said honestly. Harry stared at him. "You were foolish indeed to ignore Snape's instructions. And although it is true that you should have been warned beforehand, it still leaves the fact that you deliberately disobeyed you teachers to be pig-headed. However, what's done is done. You can't change what happened to Sirius any more than I can change what happened to my mother. Whether you are at fault or not, the fact remains that now there is nothing you can do to bring him back. You must learn to accept it as your fault, and take it in your stride. Otherwise you will be reduced to a heap of self-pity and self-hatred. So accept it, and get past it."

Harry stared at him for a long while before turning his gaze away to watch a worm on the floor.

"Thank you," he said finally. "For not treating me like a child."

"Like I said. You deserve better."

* * *

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	13. Draco's Worst Nightmare

Harry rolled into Defence the next week feeling very much worse for wear. He had spent the weekend training for the first Quidditch match against Hufflepuff. Amazingly, even after his earlier fury at Harry, Ron had still accepted him onto the team and was treating him as fairly as was to be expected. Besides, there wasn't really much to criticise – he flew exactly the same as Harry Potter had done. Even better, in fact – he had the latest edition of Firebolt. There wasn't much to flaw, really.

They still had last year's line-up, with two new additions: Ron was Keeper; the Beaters were Kirke and Sloper, two fifth years; Katie and Alicia were still Chasers, and Ron had employed Dean to take Angelina's place; and Harry – no, James – was Seeker. Admittedly, it wasn't the same as the original – Ron could never match Oliver, and as Wood had said himself, the twins were 'like a pair of human Bludgers themselves'. But on the whole, he surmised, they weren't that bad.

Hopefully, they were better than the Hufflepuffs.

"Today we will be looking at a spell called Incubus. It forces the victim to relive his or her worst nightmares, or memories. The spell alone can cause complete terror, and if left on for long enough it will probably render the victim insane. That is, if they don't kill themselves anyway." Lupin added dryly. The class stared at him as he talked.

"In this way, it is rather similar to the Imperius curse. Can I just see, how many of you can successfully throw off Imperius?"

Harry rose his hand slowly – he was the only one.

"I thought as much." Lupin commented wryly, and Harry was rewarded with a few confused looks. "The point being that you'll find that similar skills are required. It takes intense will and strength of mind to break Imperius – with Incubus, you will find that it takes true control to believe that it is not real, what you are seeing.

"I have been told that in the fourth year, you were subject to the Imperius curse for a demonstration. The Headmaster has decided that you'll be better off knowing what to expect, so he has given me permission to perform this curse on you. If you would like written confirmation, I can provide you with it, should it ease you mind," he offered the class a lop-sided smile. "Now, I appreciate that some of you will have worse memories or nightmares than others. I am going to perform the curse on each one of you, and see if you can successfully throw it off. Should any of you so wish, I will not subject you to it.

"For those of you who are worried, there are symptoms of Incubus obvious to those watching. For example, if the victim is starting to completely fall under the curse, their legs will start shaking. If they fall unconscious, their hair stands on end. If they are, in their mind, thinking of killing themselves, their fingers will curl into fists. You see, if I notice anything like this happening, I will automatically remove the curse and feed you with chocolate."

This caused a laugh among many of the students. Lupin smiled blandly at them.

"I think you'll find that chocolate is a little-known antidote that actually helps relieve the stress of most Dark curses. It's always good to have handy. So then. I'll call each of you up, and we'll see how well you do."

Harry watched as those willing to participate went up to the front. Lupin had them lie down on a bed he conjured before whispering the incantation, "Incubo". They all jerked every now and then as though trying to turn around or get away from something, and as he promised, Lupin immediately removed the curse as soon as they showed any signs of being affected beyond chocolate. They all bolted upright, sweating, the odd one crying, and generally shaking. Lupin would then calm then as much as he could and force Honeydukes finest down their throats.

"Spiders?" Harry asked Ron sympathetically as he returned to his seat. White and shaking.

"Yeah," he shuddered. "When I was five, my brothers transfigured my teddy into a spider. That's what I just saw."

"So what was it like?"

"Well, it was like he said – you relive it. So I saw myself as five years old, with that damn huge spider crawling all over me. It was scary, I'll tell you that now!"

"I wonder what Hermione will see?" he pondered out loud. Ron shrugged.

"Probably a failed piece of homework."

"Draco Malfoy."

Harry sat up a bit straighter as Draco walked up to the front of the class. He walked with the air of one exuding confidence, but as he turned and looked at Harry, the Gryffindor could see that he was anything but confident. His silver eyes were a whirlwind of nervousness and terror. Harry wondered what memory or nightmare could offer such horror.

He saw Draco's body relax as it fell under the curse. After only five seconds, his hair stood on end, his legs started shaking violently and his hands balled up. Harry gasped. None of the others had fallen under this quickly, or so violently, and they had only ever shown one side-effect. Lupin immediately took the curse off.

Only it didn't come off.

Draco started thrashing wildly on the bed. His eyes shot open, searching madly, his veins stark against the pale skin off his face and neck. Then he began to scream. Loud screams, quiet whimpers, some vicious, others almost pleading. The class watched on in horror as Lupin failed to release his form the curse. Harry gaped as Draco started clawing at his eyes, trying to rip them out, because what he was seeing in his mind was too foul to see. Then suddenly he yelled out something that made Harry freeze in his seat.

"Harry Potter must die!"

Lupin stared up at him, along with every other face in the class. Harry glanced nervously around at them all.

"What?" he asked defensively. Lupin glared at him from where he was trying to hold Draco down on the bed.

"That was Parseltongue, James!"

It clicked in Harry's head, and he shot from his desk, running to stand beside Draco. He pressed his hands to Draco's chest and dove into his mind. He felt his own mind make the connection to the Slytherin's, and was shocked to find that the other boy's soul was freezing cold. He braced himself and started speaking in Parseltongue.

"Come back, Draco, break the curse, don't let it take you, just come back, it's not real…" he whispered in Parseltongue, aware in his conscious mind that Draco's struggles were ceasing. Then suddenly Harry felt rather than heard a sharp voice attack his mind.

"Come, Draco. She is dead."

Lucius.

"Draco!" Harry screamed, as he felt Draco slip away from him, and the body beneath his hands stilled. He couldn't feel his heart. He was aware of Lupin shouting instructions to the students, but ignored them. "Draco, break it! It's not real! Come back! COME BACK!"

With a scream and a jolt, Draco threw the curse off. He leapt up on the bed and threw himself into Harry's arms. Harry stared, shocked at the blond head as he shook, clinging onto Harry as though he was the last lifeline on earth. Harry turned to stare at Lupin, who looked confused, terrified, and amazed all at once.

"We need to go see the Headmaster," he said, only just loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry turned and saw that the class was frozen in place. A few were out of their seats, and Harry realised that a couple were missing. The rest were staring at him in pure terror. He glared fiercely at them all, feeling ridiculously protective. He tightened his grip on Draco and looked down at the blond.

He was still shaking, his eyes wide open and staring, face pressed against Harry's chest, and arms wrapped tightly about Harry's waist. He was still gripping a bit tighter than Harry would have liked. He gently prised him off his robes. Draco stared up at him, bewildered.

"We're going to go see Dumbledore." He whispered, and Draco nodded slowly. "Can you stand up?"

Draco hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, flushing a brilliant shade of red and turning his head away from Harry in embarrassment. In response, Harry stuck one arm beneath his knees, another under his back, and hoisted him up against his chest. Blatantly ignoring the stares he was receiving, he shifted Draco against his body, and the Slytherin slung and arm over Harry's shoulders, curling his head into Harry's neck. Without a second glance at the rest of the students, Harry marched out of the door.

"I'm afraid I don't know." Dumbledore said quietly at his desk. Harry was sat on the sofa next to the fireplace, Draco lying curled on his side with the top of his head touching Harry's thigh. Harry had fallen asleep stroking Draco's hair, and had woken to find that Dumbledore and Lupin were still talking. He raised his left hand from where it laid on the armrest and peered at the dial.

"What time is it?" Draco asked in a soft voice, nearly making Harry jump.

"Half twelve." Harry replied. Draco shifted next to him. He was staring into the fire that burned brightly. Harry looked down at him. The dancing flames cast eerie shadows on Draco's face, highlighting the sharp cheekbones and making his blond hair seem golden. The sky outside was dark, despite the hour of day, and the burning fire offered warmth and a strange sense of security.

"We've been here ages,"

"Try to go to sleep,"

Draco rolled onto his back to stare up at Harry.

"You know I can't." He said simply. Harry sighed, his hand still resting on Draco's head. Draco lifted his own hand and took Harry's in it, pulling it down to rest on his chest. "Do you want to know?"

Harry bit his lip, knowing what Draco was talking about.

"Not if you don't want to tell me," he replied, and Draco turned back on his side, gazing into the flames once more, Harry's hand slipping to lay against his head once more. He began twining his fingers into the blond strands again.

"He doesn't know that I know, does he?" he asked quietly. Harry shook his head, then realised he couldn't see.

"No, he doesn't. He doesn't know that anyone else is aware of my secret – as far as he knows, it's just him and Lupin."

"Why don't you tell him?"

"Because I promised I wouldn't tell anyone without his permission."

"Well, you didn't tell me. I found out."

"Do you want him to know?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Well then I'll tell him."

"Tell who what?" Lupin asked mildly, coming around the back of Harry's chair. Harry blushed and bit his lip. The werewolf sat down in an armchair and shot the two boys an almost amused look.

"I need to speak to the Headmaster."

"What about?" Dumbledore asked, and came to sit in a chair beside Lupin.

"Draco, he…" Harry hesitated. "He knows who I am,"

"Do you remember the talk we had, James?" Dumbledore said gravely. Harry gulped.

"It wasn't him," Draco said quietly from the sofa, and Harry's grip on his hair tightened slightly. "I did a potion, and found out from that. It wasn't his fault."

"Is this true, Harry?"

"Yes sir."

"Then I shall not modify your memory, Mr. Malfoy. However, I am intrigued as to how your relationship managed to remain intact after Mr. Malfoy found out. After all, you used to dislike each other immensely."

"Well, I found out through 'James Antares' what the real Harry Potter is like, when you don't hate him." Draco supplied from the sofa. Harry nodded.

"And I found out that Draco Malfoy can be a good friend, when he tries." He said, peering down to see if he got a reaction. Draco smiled.

"'When I try' being the operative statement, of course." He replied smoothly. Harry grinned.

"May I also enquire as to what happened to your hand?" Dumbledore questioned. Harry unravelled the Slytherin bandage, which surprisingly had remained clean and secure for the past three weeks, and held out his hand to Dumbledore.

It wasn't bleeding any more, and the skin was nearly completely grown back over. However, it was turning into a vivid scar slashed across his hand, like another lightning bolt. Dumbledore touched it with one long finger and Harry yelped, yanking his hand back and cradling it to his chest like a new-born.

"Does that hurt?" Dumbledore asked. Harry nodded.

"I believe Draco has a similar wound," Lupin said from his chair. In response, Draco stuck his hand up. He scar there matched Harry's almost perfectly.

"What did you seal with this magic?" Dumbledore asked, his brow furrowed. Draco and Harry glanced at each other before replying in one voice.

"We can't say."

Lupin snorted into his tea. Dumbledore looked affronted.

"In that case, you may both return to your dormitories. I don't expect you to attend afternoon lessons." He said with a finality that amused Harry no end. He grinned.

"Yes, sir," he said automatically. He stood up and offered a hand to Draco, who took it and hauled himself upright.

"We left our stuff in the classroom," he said bluntly. Lupin smiled.

"I brought them up for you once you were both asleep."

Draco nodded, and went over to he door, where he noticed his and Harry's bags. He picked them both up and glanced over his shoulder at Harry.

"You coming?"

Harry shook himself and walked over, taking his bag from Draco and following him down the revolving staircase to the corridor. They walked in silence down to the dungeons. Fortunately, the rest of the school was having lunch, so they didn't mean very many people – Harry didn't think Draco particularly wanted to be questioned, or even have people look at him funny. As it turned out, the only people they crossed paths with were a group of giggling first year Hufflepuffs who paid them no attention and the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw. It was at the entrance to the dungeons that they met the last person they wanted to see.

"Well, if it isn't Ferret Face and the Slytherin Gryffindor." Ron sneered as he caught sight of them. Harry frowned.

"What are you on about, the 'Slytherin Gryffindor'?" he asked, puzzled.

"That's what the Gryffindors have decided you are. You spend more time down with this slimy git than with your own House. You're practically one of them."

"Is there a point to this declaration, Weasel?" Draco asked in a bored tone. Ron's ears went pink.

"Yes, there is," he snapped, and glared at Harry. "You're off the team, Antares."

"What?" Harry gasped, aghast. "But who're you going to use for Seeker?"

"Ginny, of course. She's way better than you."

Draco's pale eyebrows shot up into his hair.

"I doubt that." He drawled. Ron was positively seething. Hermione came up behind him, a haughty expression on her face that could rival Malfoy's, her hair even more wild than usual.

"Don't waste your breath on them, Ron," she said icily, regarding Draco and Harry with blatant dislike. "They're not worth your time."

"Indeed." Draco said with a curl of his lip. "If what happens when you open your mouth is anything like what happens when you open your Potions ingredients, we'll all be drenched in Bubotuber pus,"

"Why, you little –"

"Leave it, Ron!" Harry said sharply, and glared at Draco. "You can shut up too," he snarled, and with one last look at a disdainful Hermione and a furious Ron, he dragged Draco off down the steps and into the labyrinth that was the dungeons.

Draco collapsed on his bed as soon as they got to his bedroom. Harry locked the door behind himself and glared at Draco's prone figure.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." He growled. Draco raised his head out of the pillows.

"It's second nature. You know, the way it used to be for us. See Potter, insult him. Only now it's see Weasel, insult him. It's just what I associate with him." He sat up and propped himself on his elbows, legs stretched out on the bed. He looked at Harry earnestly, who was standing against the door, arms folded across his chest. "I mean, there must be people who you automatically associate things with. Like Snape. What's the first thing you think of when you see him?"

"Greasy bastard." Harry replied promptly. Draco shrugged.

"And I think 'Potions Master, godfather'. See my point? We both have different instincts. It's the same with Weasel and the Mudblood. Nothing different."

"It is different," Harry complained, but the anger was gone from his voice. He pushed himself off the door and fell into one of the dark green armchairs next to the fire, which immediately burst to life. Harry noticed that there were no lights down here. He looked up and saw a small, circular window in the ceiling – but no light appeared to be coming through it. He peered closer and shrank back into his chair when something moved across it.

"Are we under the lake?" he asked Draco, who chuckled.

"You've only just worked that out?"

"Do you want to know a secret?"

"Well if that wasn't a sudden change of subject, I don't know what is," Draco commented, then got off the bed to sit in the armchair beside Harry. "Yeah, go on then. Tell all."

"I've been in your common room before."

"Yes, I know," Draco said, looking puzzled. "You've been in here at least three times a week since the first day back." He reminded Harry, who grinned.

"No, I mean I've been here before this year. I came here in the second year."

Draco looked outraged.

"When? I mean… how? I don't get it!"

"We thought you might've let slip some clues as to who Slytherin's heir was. In fact, we thought it _was_ you. We took Polyjuice and impersonated Crabbe and Goyle."

"I actually think I might remember that." Draco said thoughtfully. "Was that when I found you outside with Weasel's brother and then showed you that article on Weasel's father?"

"Yes."

"Again, this explains a lot of things." Draco shot him a sideways grin. "Like why you didn't know the password, why you didn't laugh when I showed you the article, and why Crabbe and Goyle turned up again half an hour later with no recollection of what had just happened."

Harry blushed.

"We drugged them. Hermione put a Sleeping Potion in two muffins. We left them where they would eat them, then stole their shoes and stuck them into a cupboard somewhere. I must say, it was intriguing to see exactly what this place was like."

"Meet your expectations?"

"Kind of. All dark and creepy, like a Slytherin."

"I'm guessing your common room's all bright, red and gold every with squashy armchairs around a massive fireplace and paintings of Godric Gryffindor everywhere." Draco grinned.

"Actually, there's only one painting." He glanced at Draco. "Do you want to come see it?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Lion's den," he said to the Fat Lady five minutes later. Draco was right behind him in the Invisibility Cloak, and stepped through the portrait hole as Harry kept the Fat Lady talking long enough. He glanced around the Gryffindor common room, taking in everything. The room was high and fairly large, obviously the whole width of the Tower. It was, as he had predicted, all in red and gold, and as Harry had said, with only one portrait of Gryffindor himself, which hung over the merrily crackling fire. He peered over to the side of the room. There were two spiral staircases going up. He was about to step on one when Harry seized his arm and yanked him backwards.

"That's the girls," he hissed, barely audible.

"So?" Draco asked, bewildered. Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced around the room. There were only a few seventh year boys beside the fire, and they weren't paying Harry any attention.

"Watch," Harry whispered, moving Draco to the side and stepping onto the stairs. He got three steps up before the steps flattened out, becoming a slide that Harry slipped on and immediately shot down, landing with a thump. The seventh years glanced over at him, then went back to whatever they were doing. Harry stood up and brushed off his robes.

"That's a bit weird," Draco observed quietly. Harry nodded, and motioned for Draco to follow him. He walked up the other spiral staircase, stopping at the very top outside a door that said 'Sixth Years', which he pushed open and ushered Draco in. He froze when he saw Ron and Seamus, sat on Ron's bed and talking in hushed tones. They looked up when Harry came in and both sneered.

"What do you want?" Seamus asked bluntly.

"This is my dorm too, you know," Harry replied, slightly uncomfortable. He felt Draco walk past him and begin inspecting the room.

"Don't you have Charms now?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Dumbledore gave us the day off," Harry explained. Ron sneered at him.

"Why aren't you down in the bottom of the school with your boyfriend then?"

"He's just my friend, Ron," he replied quietly, not wanting to provoke him any more than necessary.

"Whatever. We all saw how you treated him in Defence."

"I would have done the same for you,"

"You picked him up like a child in your arms and cuddled him like a good little boy though – I certainly hope you wouldn't try anything like with me," Ron replied reproachfully. Harry sighed.

"Look Ron, there's nothing like that between us, and even if there were, it wouldn't be your business. I just came to get my broom, then I'm going."

"What do you want your broom for?" Ron asked suspiciously. "You don't have a team to practise for."

"I like to fly for the pleasure of it. It relaxes me,"

"Whatever. Just get it then get out," Seamus snarled, and they continued with their conversation. Harry muttered under his breath as he crossed the room and grabbed his broom from where it lay against the wall. As he passed Neville's bed he felt a hand ghost across his shoulder, alerting him of its presence. He nodded almost imperceptibly and walked back over to the door. Seamus and Ron paused again in their whispering to offer him another glare. Harry raised his eyebrows and held out his hand, fingers splayed.

"Abracadabra!" he said exuberantly, waving his hand. To his immense amusement, the pillows from Seamus's bed flew up and hit them both on their heads. The duvet of Ron's bed flew up behind them and over their heads, and the hangings were yanked shut. After a few moments of silence, an alarmingly purple Ron stuck his head out of the bed, followed by an equally furious Seamus. Harry had to fight to keep his face straight. He spoke again, hoping Draco would play along.

"Hocus Pocus, zing zang spillip!" he cried, and this time Ron's old broom was lifted and repeatedly hit them over the head alternately. Then Ron's trunk shot open and the pillows that had attacked the Gryffindors moments before were shoved in, and the lid was slammed shut.

"What the hell?" Ron burst out, now positively apoplectic. Harry personally was surprised that Draco hadn't been more vindictive. He shrugged, lowered his hand, and swept out of the door with as much grace as he could muster while coming close to snorting with laughter.

He heard the gentle tapping of invisible feet behind him and strode down the spiral staircase, marching across the common room and through the portrait hole. Only when he was sure they weren't being followed did he duck into a hidden corridor through a seemingly solid stretch of wall and burst out laughing. He heard Draco enter after him and the Cloak slid off him. He had a pleased grin plastered on his face. Harry sank to the floor and breathed deeply, chuckling now and then. Draco leant against the opposite wall. Once he was calm enough, Harry spoke.

"Why the hell did you put Ron's broom in his trunk?" he asked, sighing. "It was rather random and mundane." Draco countered the comment with five words.

"Hocus Pocus, zing zang spillip." He said simply. Harry grinned and leaned his head back against the wall. After a while he stood up, his broom clasped in his hand.

"Come on, go get your broom. He'll think something's up if I don't go now. They've got Quidditch practise soon. Besides, he's going to be pissed off at me anyway, I don't want to make things worse."

"I'll see you there in five minutes."

It was a good two hours later when they landed and fell to the floor in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs. Laughing, Draco extricated himself from Harry and stood up.

"Nice catch," he said between laughs. Harry grinned up from where he lay on the floor, one arm thrown over to his face to shield his eyes against the glaring October sunlight, the Golden Snitch firmly in his fist. The silver wings dragged futilely against his fingers in an attempt to escape. He sat up and shook his head.

"Yuck. I'm all sweaty." He complained, plucking at his black T-shirt, which was slick with sweat and sticking to his chest and back. He looked up at Draco, who was in a similar state. "Yuck," he repeated. Draco shot him a mischievous grin.

"First one to my bathroom gets the bath first," he said cheekily and started sprinting up to the castle. Swearing under his breath, Harry shot to his feet and hurtled after him, catching up with him at the steps to the Entrance Hall. They pelted to the dungeon entrance, all elbows and laughs, when a large, supremely bat-like object swooped down upon them.

"Ah, Mr Antares. Running in the corridors. Ten points from Gryffindor."

"Malfoy was running too!" Harry protested. Snape raised an eyebrow and glanced at Draco, who gave him his most innocent look.

"I was just going to get a bath when Antares came chasing me."

Harry's mouth dropped open. Snape turned to him, and Draco grinned behind his back.

"Come to my office, Antares. Mr Malfoy, be on your way."

"Furious but oddly amused, Harry followed Snape down a separate path through the dungeons to his office. It was the same as it had been last year when he had been taking Occlumency lessons. As he glanced around the room, he noticed that there were many newspaper clippings littering the desk. He moved closer to see what they were about, but Snape banished them to a drawer, which slammed shut.

"No snooping, Antares. Sit." He pointed to a spindly chair and Harry sat, waiting whilst Snape disappeared into another room. He returned with two goblets, one of which he handed to Harry. Harry sniffed it, and it smelled of pumpkin juice. He took a gulp then looked up at Snape, who had an oddly feral glint to his eyes. Harry froze, staring terrified at the Potions Master over the rim of the goblet. He slowly lowered it and shifted in his chair.

"What did you put in it?" he asked in a scared whisper. Snape bared his teeth at him.

"Where is Potter?" he barked suddenly. Harry tried to say that he hadn't a clue what the man was on about, but the potion burst to life, the nerve impulses bypassing the part of his brain that controlled the ability to lie. He found himself speaking without meaning to.

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not the Secret Keeper."

"Who is?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

"Dammit!" Snape swore suddenly. "Meddling old fool." He snarled, glaring at Harry. "What can you tell me?"

"I can tell you anything you ask."

"No, no, I meant what can you tell me about Harry Potter?" Snape growled irritably.

"His father was called James Potter. His mother was Lily Potter, nee Evans. He was born in Godric's Hollow on the 31st of July…"

"Enough!" Snape yelled. "This is going nowhere."

"Can I go now, sir?" Harry asked politely. Snape scowled at him.

"Yes. Get out of my sight."

"Yes sir."

"And don't tell anyone about this. Unfortunately I haven't any counter-potion on hand, so I can't take it off you, and I refuse to put up with you in my office for the next two hours. Go amuse yourself playing Exploding Snap or some other mundane game, or whatever it is that you imbecilic Gryffindors do in your spare time."

Harry was debating whether or not that was a question when Snape grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly shoved him out of the room.

"I have to say, you certainly have a penchant for greeting me in all my varying states of _déshabille_." Draco looked up from his book to watch Harry as he closed the door and locked it. He stood up and shut the book down on the table. He was wearing black boxers and a dark green shirt that wasn't buttoned up. On his feet was a pair of fluffy pink slippers. Draco noticed Harry staring at them and flicked his ear.

"Not a word about the slippers, understood?"

"Yes, I understand the sentence, but I don't understand the concept." Harry replied automatically, and flushed in embarrassment. Draco lifted an eyebrow in a wonderful impression of Snape.

"What did he feed you?"

"Pumpkin juice."

"What was _in_ the pumpkin juice, imbecile?"

"A truth serum. Not Veritaserum, something else."

"Was he asking about you? As in, Harry Potter?" Draco walked around the bed and collapsed on it, sprawling across the cover like a large, oddly dressed cat.

"Yes. But I didn't tell him anything because I can't, Dumbledore is my secret keeper."

"Excellent. So there are still only four people that know who you are."

"Yes, there are."

"You didn't have to answer that. Go have a bath, you stink."

Harry nodded and walked almost mechanically through to the bathroom. He started filling the bathtub with hot water. Once full, he started to pull his T-shirt off. It stuck to his body and he pulled a ace as it came off. He unbuckled his belt and slipped his jeans down. He was about to remove his boxers when a call from the bedroom interrupted him.

"Door!"

Harry blinked, and looked at the door. It as wide open, and Draco was giving him a look that he couldn't decipher. Blushing, Harry started to close it.

"Sorry." He said. Draco laughed.

"Harry, do you like Weasel?"

Harry paused in shutting the door and looked at him.

"Not at the moment, no."

"Do you like Granger?"

"Again, at the moment she's being a bit off."

"Do you fancy her?"

"No."

"Have you ever fancied her?"

"No."

"Have you ever fancied Weasel?"

"What the hell? NO!"

Draco shrugged.

"Just wondered. Now get in your damned bath, you're making the room smell."

Harry obeyed immediately, wondering vaguely if the truth serum had contained an element of something, perhaps a form of Imperius or suchlike in a potion. He closed the door and walked over to the bath, slipping off his boxers and putting his clothes in a neat pile on the counter on the other side of the room. He slipped into the bath and sighed happily, relaxing and letting the magical water do its work, soothing his stressed muscles and cleansing his body. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the edge of the bath, soon falling asleep.

* * *

Look out, possessedness in the next chapter... yeah, I lied about not updating. But I can assure you that it won't be at all frequent for a while.

Yeah sorry about the typos... that's my beta's job...

Reviews are nice. I like them very much.


	14. Possessed

Thanks Jimbocous for reviewing!

Does nobody else want to?

Yeah FireOpal you just don't count. You've seen it all before anyway. And enough with the potatoes!

WARNING: MINOR CHARACTER DEATH

Nobody important, but some people might say it's a bit gory. You have been warned.

* * *

He woke to an explosion that shattered the door and blew bits of oak into the bath with Harry. He shot upright, shaking and panting, his scar burning. He sat up a bit straighter on the bed. Suddenly he realised that he wasn't in bed, he was still in Draco Malfoy's bath. The bubbles had disappeared and the water was cold, and the owner of the bath was standing in the doorway looking very irritated.

"You were screaming," Draco said, crossing his arms over his chest and casting Harry a disapproving glare. Harry noticed his wand sticking out of his grip beneath his right elbow.

"Sorry. I must have fallen asleep."

"Potter, look at the floor."

Harry peered over the side of the bath and noticed that the floor was an inch deep in water. Puzzled, he glanced back into the bath. Indeed, the level was lower than he remembered it being before he had fallen asleep.

"Sorry," he whispered, feeling, for some reason, utterly miserable. He sat up properly and pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms. A terrible darkness was pressing down over his chest and he was upset that he didn't understand it more than anything else. Draco sighed heavily and walked over to Harry.

"Are you all right?" he asked, crouching down beside the Gryffindor and touching his shoulder. To his surprise, Harry flinched away violently.

"Do I look all right?" he snarled at the Slytherin, who blinked in shock.

"Sorry. I just heard you screaming and I couldn't get in through the door. I think you must have spelled it in your sleep or something, it took a rather powerful spell to blast it open." He indicated to the remains of the door. Harry's mood swung violently again.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I was just so tired, I didn't mean to release it, I forgot to Occlude, I'm so, so sorry, I'll pay for the door, I promise, my parents left me enough money, I promise I'll pay for it, I'm sorry…"

"Harry, don't!" Draco said, sounding distressed to hear Harry practically begging for forgiveness. "It's fine, don't worry about it! I was just worried, that's all."

Harry was about to reply when a piercing noise filled the room. It reverberated through the air, and both boys clamped their hands over their ears. Harry whimpered – the noise was almost painful – and Draco grabbed him under the arms. He hauled him up out of the water, and Harry was so out of it that he wasn't even embarrassed by being naked in front of Draco. He vaguely registered being dried, then Draco forcing clothes on him, before he was practically dragged out of the room. He realised as they hurried out of the dungeons that students everywhere were reacting in a similar fashion, pouring out of classrooms accompanied by teachers.

"What's happening?" Harry managed to choke out. Draco had one arm around his waist, the other holding his wand out. Harry's left arm was clutching at Draco's shoulders for support as they moved up through the school.

"That's the school's alarm. If you hear it, you're to report to the Great Hall immediately, no matter what you're doing. It hasn't been activated for decades. I hope it was just Peeves this time." He said, and Harry couldn't help but notice the fear tingeing the normally cool voice. He suddenly gasped and his grip on Draco's shoulders increased.

"My scar!" he whispered, Draco stopped moving, and they shared a look of terror. Draco spoke the words that were branded on both of their minds.

"He's here."

Draco grabbed Harry's hand and practically threw himself forward, and Harry's body finally seemed to start responding in the way he wanted, allowing him to sprint along beside Draco as they burst up into the Entrance Hall, flashing past astonished students as they marched formally in class groups.

They erupted into the Great Hall, Harry's scar burning more now it was out of the dungeons. He collapsed halfway across the floor and Draco was nearly pulled down with him. Dumbledore and Snape were at the top of the Great Hall, issuing orders to the other teachers. Draco grabbed Harry under the arms and lifted him in the same way that Harry had done for him earlier that day, carrying him to Dumbledore, where he deposited the Gryffindor.

Harry was trembling, his eyes rolled back into his head, cold sweat covering his body. Dumbledore descended upon the two boys with alarming swiftness, crouching down to join Harry and Draco on the floor.

"Severus, check your Slytherins. Now," he snapped, and to Draco's surprise, the Potions Master immediately obeyed without further comment. The Headmaster glanced sharply at Draco. "What has happened?"

"We were coming up from the dungeons and his scar started hurting," Draco explained, eyeing Harry nervously. "I don't know what's happening." He looked at Dumbledore fervently. "Will he be all right?"

Dumbledore was cut off mid-reply when another sound was added to the sound of the alarm – a horrifying, ear-splitting shriek of nothing less than absolute terror. The Headmaster fixed Draco with a fiercely determined stare.

"Stay with Harry. Don't cast any spells. Just keep him safe."

Without another word, Dumbledore rose and hurried off in one direction, towards the shriek. Draco looked back down at Harry. He was shivering, and his hands were compulsively gripping Draco's robes then relaxing. Draco dragged them both up against the wall, and manoeuvred around him so he was lying flat on his back, head on Draco's lap. The Slytherin hoisted him up against his chest, so he was firmly lodged between his legs, and wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor's chest, pulling him tight against himself. After a few moments the convulsions subsided and he relaxed slightly in Draco's arms.

The Slytherin glanced around the Hall. A few students were staring at him and Harry, but most were too busy whispering excitedly, completely oblivious to the danger they were all in. Once brought up to the Hall, they had been split off into Houses, and from there into years. Snape was calling a quick register, and he glanced up to where Draco was sat with Harry for a second before turning back to his House. Sprout was taking a head count of the Hufflepuffs, as was Flitwick with the Ravenclaws, but McGonagall was not there for the Gryffindors. Instead, Lupin was checking them all.

There was a sudden flurry of movement as Dumbledore came quickly back into the Hall, accompanied by a distraught looking Hufflepuff girl, who ran straight over to the rest of her House to be comforted by her friends. Whatever she had seen, it couldn't bode well for them. The teachers all flocked to Dumbledore like lemmings over a cliff and each Head of House reported that their Houses were full. Draco could clearly hear what was being said above him.

"Keep them as calm as possible. I am going to bar the Hall."

Draco looked down at Harry, peering around his head to check his face. His eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks, and he appeared to be simply asleep. He looked back up in time to see Dumbledore wave his wand. Every side door in the Hall slammed shut, locking, and the massive oak doors to the Entrance Hall groaned and creaked to close with a boom that echoed around the now silent Hall. Suddenly Draco felt an enormous blaze of magic rip through the air, and Harry tensed in his hold. He watched, fascinated, as every door glowed with a fiery white light that settled gently into the woodwork, fading away from sight. He looked around the Hall. Nobody else seemed to have noticed the visible magic that Dumbledore had used. He glanced up at Dumbledore as the Headmaster spoke again.

"I must ask you all to remain as calm as possible. A dreadful thing has happened in this castle and you are safer here than anywhere else. I would not be keeping you here if there was any other option." He gazed around the large room, each student watching him raptly. "You will have to stay here for the rest of the day, and possibly the night if the matter is not resolved." He took a deep breath. "Now I fear that you ought to know the reason why we are all here today.

"There has been an attack on a member of staff. Professor McGonagall has been critically injured, and it is very likely that she will be dead within the hour." He said gravely. There were a few screams, lots of choked sobs, and plenty of first year girls burst into tears.

"Draco?"

Draco tightened his grip on Harry as he whispered his name. The Gryffindor shivered and Draco buried his face into Harry's shoulder.

"He's killed McGonagall," he said simply. Harry started to stand up, but Draco's arms around him held him down in place. "No." he said firmly. "Dumbledore will find out how he did it, you're staying right here. He told me to stay with you. You can't let on that your scar's hurting or anything like that – they'll know if you do."

Harry nodded slowly, and sank back into Draco's hold. Dumbledore had finished speaking, and had come over to Draco and Harry.

"Harry, we may need your assistance in discovering how this crime was perpetrated. If you are feeling up to it, I would request that you come with Professor Lupin, Snape and I to see what you can make of the happenings. I fear that you may be our only hope." He paused for a moment. "You may come too, of course, Mr. Malfoy." Draco glanced at Harry. The Gryffindor had a determined glint to his eye, which made Draco both confident and a bit nervous at the same time. He slid his arms from around him and allowed him to stand up, then took the offered hand that helped him up.

Harry glanced up at Dumbledore.

"Let's go then."

The five of them trouped out of one of the side doors to the speculative stares of the older students. Harry let his gaze settle on the Gryffindors. Ron was casting him a shrewd look, Hermione looked like she was about to faint – in fact she probably would have been on the floor by now if Ron hadn't been gripping her so tightly – Seamus looked green than Harry's own eyes, and Dean was just… blank. As though he wasn't really paying attention. He watched as Dumbledore murmured a spell, then there was a flash of blue as the door was released from the wards Dumbledore had placed upon it.

"Why is it blue?" he asked curiously. Snape shot him a sharp look.

"Why is what blue, Antares?"

"The door. When the Headmaster unwarded it, it flashed blue. The magic was white when he warded them, that's all,"

"Snape and Lupin exchanged a look that Harry couldn't really see, and didn't reply to him. Draco caught his eye, shrugged, and peered up the corridor, trying to see around the teachers, who had suddenly stopped dead. Dumbledore began to speak.

"Brace yourselves, boys. The sight is not pretty." He warned, and the teachers stepped to the sides to allow them through.

McGonagall was laying flat on her back, sprawled out in a cruel parody of sleep. Her eyes were open and dull, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Her mouth was open, blood trickling gently from one corner. Blood was pooling steadily around her, coming from various stab wounds across her body. Her green robes were ripped and slashed, stained with blood. The knife used to cut her open was lying on the stone floor a few feet away. She had died from loss of blood, guaranteed by a puncture wound in her neck.

Harry crouched down beside her, all aware of his jeans trailing in the blood, his bare feet squelching in the liquid. He lay his hand down on McGonagall's head and could feel the magic pulsing under his hand. He tried to reach out to it, to gather information, but couldn't reach far enough. But then he felt an explosion of magic in his right hand. He looked down at it and saw that his hand was firmly enclosed in Draco's, their scars touching, magic searing between them. Harry closed his eyes and delved again into McGonagall's lifeless corpse.

"Harry!"

Harry blinked, staring up at Draco's face.

"What happened?" he asked, confused.

"Our combined magic made the corridor collapse. You blacked out and we had to drag you out from the place before you were buried." He paused. "Did you find anything out?"

"Yes," Harry said, remembering suddenly, and shot upright, scrambling to his feet, yelling. "Where is everybody? Where are the teachers? They need to be kept inside, we need to get to them –"

"Harry, stop!"

Harry stopped trying to force the door open and turned to Draco. "They're all in the Great Hall. Dumbledore said he would keep everyone in there until you woke up and could tell us what happened. We'll go there now, but don't run off, all right?"

Harry nodded. Draco came over to the door and unlocked it with a muttered spell that Harry didn't know. They walked for a minute before coming to a door that was glowing with faint marks that swam across its surface. Draco placed a hand on it. A network of silver sparks shot out like a spider's web around where his hand touched it. He reached down and took Harry's hand, placing it on the door beside his. Sparks of gold rippled under Harry's hand, and there was a crunch as the door came free.

The entire Great Hall looked around as they entered. They had obviously all been chatting enthusiastically, but silence fell as they walked over to Dumbledore. Harry glanced around. The whole of Gryffindor house looked mournful, and most had tears dried on their cheeks. He almost felt a pang of sympathy to Hermione, but then remembered how she treated him, and decided against it.

"I know who it was," he said to Dumbledore once they were away from the other teachers. Dumbledore didn't twinkle at him; he looked as grave as the next man.

"Was it a member of the school?"

"Yes."

"Staff or student?"

Harry took a deep breath.

"Staff."

Dumbledore cast him a sharp look.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, but they were being possessed. There's no other explanation. Apart from the fact that my scar was burning, and also because the teacher in question acted very weirdly in what I saw."

"Please, tell me who it was."

"Professor Trelawney."

"Very well. Inform your Heads of House, but do not cause a commotion."

Harry and Draco nodded, and Draco walked over to Snape. Harry watched them talk for a while before going over to Lupin, who was glancing at him expectantly every few seconds. He took the Defence Professor to one side.

"Professor Trelawney was possessed by Voldemort,"

Lupin nodded gravely, not looking the least surprised.

"I met her as I was bringing my second years down. She was looking lost, and couldn't remember what had just happened. It does make sense." He admitted. Harry indicated over to the rest of his House with a jerk of his head.

"How are they doing?"

"The first and second years are a bit confused, they don't really understand. The older students have been comforting the third and fourth year – they're pretty badly shaken up. I don't think it would hurt for you to go see how your friends are doing." He said with a pointed look at Ron and Hermione. Harry's face contorted and his voice went cold.

"They're not my friends," he said shortly. Then he saw Neville, looking upset and alone, and went over to him. "Hey Neville. How are you doing?"

Neville gave him a fearful look.

"It was You-Know-Who, wasn't it? He killed her," he whimpered. Harry sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't lie to Neville.

"Yes. But don't worry. He's not going to be able to get you."

"What did he do to her?"

Harry hesitated.

"I can't tell you. Dumbledore made me promise. Sorry," he apologised, but Neville didn't seem too bothered.

"It's OK. I understand." He broke off and looked up at the raised section. "Hey, what's going on?"

Harry followed shi gaze. Dumbledore and Snape were confronting Trelawney, who had her wad out. She no longer resembled an overgrown dragonfly; her face was set, her mouth a firm line, and her eyes were blazing with some sort of fury. Harry let go of Neville's shoulder and started up the steps. He was stopped by a hand on his arm.

"No," Draco ground out. "Let the teachers deal with it."

Harry tried to shake him off, but the Slytherin had a good hold on his sleeve, and wouldn't let go. Instead he had to be content with inching closer and trying to catch what they were saying.

"He's dead, at last!" Trelawney snapped, and Harry realised with a jolt that Voldemort was speaking through her. "Harry Potter is dead, and Voldemort will prevail," she said slightly hysterically. Harry growled quietly and tried to advance again. This time Draco didn't stop him.

"You have lost your mind, woman," Snape retorted. Harry went over to Dumbledore, who was slightly further back than Snape.

"He's possessing her. He's talking through her," he whispered to the Headmaster, who nodded curtly and stepped forwards.

"I fear, Sybill, that I will have to restrain you. You are obviously distressed over the matter, and may do something you regret later."

With a snarl of fury, Trelawney turned to bear down upon Dumbledore, wand outstretched.

"Stay out of it, you meddling old fool." She snapped. She suddenly looked over at Harry suspiciously. "What's he doing here?"

The explosion in his head was like none he had ever felt before. It was worse than he had ever encountered. It was worse than Cruciatus, worse than anything else he'd ever been inflicted upon. It felt worse than a few weeks ago when he had collapsed for no reason. It felt as though his head was being ripped open slowly, or cut with a blunt knife. Then it started pounding, as though his head was being continually smacked with great force against a very hard stone floor. Suddenly the pain that was centred on his forehead shot down and into the cross scar over his right eye, searing the eyeball beneath it. He knew he was screaming, because his throat hurt, and he knew there were people talking all around him, people trying to get near him, but for some reason they couldn't. He could feel their magic – each person had a different feel. But he could feel Draco's most of all.

* * *

I did warn you before anyone starts complaining.

Does that count as a cliffhanger?

And Jimbocous - no, they aren't going to chuck him out of Gryffindor House! Slytherin!Harry is something I've never really liked, so I have no intention of putting him in any other place. They'll just have to put up with him for now.

Why will nobody else review? I know you're reading it.. I can see it on my hits counter! PLEASE, be nice like Jimbocous and REVIEW!

Like I said before, FireOpal you don't count.

smokey


	15. Back to the Basilisk

Greetings people from Mars. Here comes slash...

* * *

He awoke to a burning sensation in his right eye. He slowly raised his hand to it, straining at the effort on his muscles, but a cold, firm hand stopped him before he could touch it.

"It burns," he whispered.

"It will do." Snape replied. "Your eye was damaged. But don't worry, it will be healed by tonight."

Harry cracked his left eye open to look around the Hospital Wing. Luckily, there was nobody else there. He closed his eye again.

"My head hurts."

"You were having a fit. Like last time, you managed to put up a powerful shield that stopped us from getting to you. Your head was hitting the floor repeatedly. You are very lucky that you're not dead."

"What happened to Trelawney?"

"The Headmaster has her in his office."

"And how long have I been here?"

"A day, no longer. The rest of the school is under the impression that Voldemort possessed you as a last attempt to make a dent in the school's morale. It appears that he was having trouble controlling Trelawney – probably because there isn't enough in her head for him to work with," Snape mused, and Harry was shocked to find that he was amused by the comment.

"When can I come out of the Hospital Wing?"

"Probably tonight. Although the Headmaster recommends that you do not attend classes tomorrow. He believes you have endured too much."

"What day is it today?"

"Tuesday evening."

"Ha. I'll have missed two Potions lessons this week."

"Don't worry, I've set you extra work to do. It wouldn't do for you to have any misconceptions about my tolerance for absence." Snape said silkily. Harry scowled.

"Yes, sir," he said grudgingly.

"You remind me of someone, Potter."

"Really? Who would that be?"

"Don't you know?"

"Well, not if –" Harry began irritably, then froze. "What did you call me?" he whispered fearfully. Snape bared his teeth at him.

"I had my suspicions. Professor Dumbledore confirmed them after you blacked out."

"The bastard," Harry breathed. "He swore he wouldn't."

"Five points for language, another five for insulting a teacher." Snape said automatically. "The point being I know that you're not dead, Potter. You're very much alive. I thought you might like to know. It does explain a lot of things."

Snape stood and billowed out of the room in the amount of time that it took Harry to collect his wits. He stared at the door, completely dumbfounded. Dumbledore promised he wouldn't tell anyone without Harry's consent. He had broken another promise. He had broken far too many. This one was the last.

Scratching furiously at his back, he leapt from the bed and stormed across the room. He paused in front of the mirror to take in his appearance. He was still dressed in the clothes Draco had forced upon him as they had hurried out of the dungeons. His own jeans, the bottoms steeped in McGonagall's blood. What he assumed was Draco's T-shirt, with long sleeves that covered shi hands. He rolled the sleeves up irritably. His feet were bare, and on closer inspection hadn't been cleaned – they were still stained with blood, splattered up his ankles.

He stormed up to the door and pushed. It wouldn't open. On impulse, he pressed one hand against it. Tiny gold sparks shot out from around his fingers.

"Aperire!" he snapped. The door swung open and he marched out into the corridor, following the trail of Snape's magic – like faint tendrils of smoke wafting near to the floor, grey and cold, moving in snake-like patterns in the way that Snape himself moved. He could see and eel the magic of the students too, of course, but concentrated solely on Snape's. The smoke was strengthening, getting brighter as he jogged down the corridors. Those that he passed stared at him in wonder, but he ignored them. He wanted to get to Dumbledore. Or Snape. Or Draco. Whoever he came to first.

"I can see you," said a voice in the shadows. Harry stopped and turned to Draco.

"Congratulations. I can see you too,"

"No, I mean I can see your magic. Your essence, as it were. You're all red and bright and loud."

"I didn't know you could see people's magic." Harry frowned. "When did that start?"

"Just a few days ago. What does my magic look like?"

Harry considered it for a moment, watching Draco's magic swirl around him.

"It's quite bright, and it's a dark green. It's moving erratically, as though it doesn't know what to do." He decided. Then he frowned at him. "Why do you reckon we can see people's magic?"

"I'm not entirely sure." Draco shrugged. He held up his left hand, scar shining. "Maybe it's something to do with this?"

"Possibly."

"Harry…"

Harry sighed.

"What do you want?"

"Don't be presumptuous." Draco scowled.

"You're predictable. Come on, out with it."

"Well, I was wondering if we could go down into the Chamber of Secrets…"

"No!" Harry said, shocked. "I don't even know if it's still there. Dumbledore's probably closed it off or something…"

"He can't have done. You said yourself, it takes a Parselmouth to open it,"

"Well then he could have used Lingua Omni…"

"No. I researched it. You can only speak the language if you know how it's meant to sound. I doubt anyone in this school has heard much Parseltongue, at least not enough to know how to speak it."

"But why do you want to go down there?"

"Because it's fascinating. Why won't you, you weren't like this about going into Hogsmeade."

"That was different," Harry scowled. "I didn't meet Tom Riddle in Hogsmeade, nor did I nearly get killed there."

"Please, Harry!" Draco whined.

"We're not going, and that's final!"

* * *

"This is where Lockhart tried to Obliviate us, but Ron's wand backfired and he caused the tunnel to collapse instead." Harry explained as they came to the dead-end, a hole faintly visible in the rubble. Draco peered at it.

"Why did he try to Obliviate you?" he asked, head in the hole.

"Because that's the key to his success. He would go to a person who'd done something heroic, make them tell him how they'd done it, then Obliviate them and take the credit. He was going to wipe our memories then take us back, saying that we 'tragically lost our minds at the sight of her mangled body'."

"Git,"

"Indeed,"

"Can we go through?"

"If you must."

He watched, amused, as Draco wriggled through the gap in the rock. He got most of the way through then dropped and landed apparently awkwardly on the other side, his feet still hooked in the gap.

"Ow."

"Move it, I'm coming through."

Draco shuffled out of the way and Harry squirmed through the gap. Draco helped him through the last bit and they carried on walking down the tunnels.

"How far is it to the Chamber?"

"Not too far."

After five or ten minutes they came to the solid stone doors that Harry recognised with an awful mixed sense of foreboding and excitement. He glanced at Draco, who was waiting impatiently.

"Aren't you going to open it?" the Slytherin asked irritably. Harry grinned.

"You do it."

Draco looked at him uncertainly.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Just say 'open' in Parseltongue. Simple."

Draco gave him a sceptical look but did it anyway. To his surprise, the doors cracked open, sliding smoothly out of sight. He gaped at Harry, and started as Harry tugged him through.

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly-lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

"What the hell…?"

Harry peered down the chamber, lifting his wand higher to offer more light. He grinned as he saw what Draco was staring at. He grabbed the Slytherin's arm and dragged him forwards. Draco squirmed, not particularly willing to get any closer.

"Relax, it's dead." Harry rolled his eyes. Draco stopped squirming and let Harry pull him forward. The Basilisk was indeed dead, and hadn't been moved from where it had been slain. Nor had the body deteriorated, to Harry's surprise. Draco moved around to the mouth and gingerly poked at it.

"It's got a fang missing," he said, puzzled. Harry nodded.

"It bit me, and the fang snapped off in my arm."

"Shouldn't you be dead by now then?"

"Yes, but Fawkes – that's the Headmaster's phoenix – came down with the Sorting Hat and healed me with his tears."

"The Sorting Hat." Draco said disdainfully, raising a pale eyebrow.

"Yeah. I pulled Gryffindor's sword out of it. It's a really nice sword, it's got rubies set in it and everything. That's what I killed the Basilisk with. Fawkes destroyed its eyes so I could look and see what I was doing, and I stabbed it through the top of its mouth."

"Fascinating." Draco murmured, and bent to the remaining fang. He stuck his hands into his robes, delving for something, something that turned out to be a small flask. He glanced at Harry.

"Yes, you can collect some poison," Harry said wearily. "Just be careful."

Draco smiled beatifically and knelt down beside the fang. He carefully snapped the tip off and held the flask beneath it. Thick, dark green liquid poured out into the container, sizzling slightly. Once Draco was finished, he stood and looked around.

"Is there anything else here?" he asked Harry, who had sat down and was leaning against one of the pillars.

"There's a massive statue of Salazar Slytherin himself at the far end, if you're interested. I never really liked it much. A Basilisk came out of his mouth when I was down here last."

Draco chuckled and walked over to the far end of the room. Harry leaned against the pillar and listened to Draco's footsteps as he walked to the other end of the chamber, growing fainter as he went. Then he heard something that made his blood run cold.

A hiss.

Draco was speaking in Parseltongue.

"Greetings, Salazar Slytherin!" he said jokingly in ignorance. Harry was up and running before Draco had finished speaking.

"No! Not in Parseltongue!" he yelled as he caught up with Draco. Then he noticed in horror that the mouth of Slytherin was slowly getting wider, as though to admit something through the gaping hole. Swearing, he grabbed Draco's arm and yanked it. "We have to go, now!" he practically screamed.

"Why?" Draco asked, confused.

"Because last time this happened, a Basilisk popped out of his mouth! How do you know there aren't any more?"

Draco went white.

"Oh shit," he whispered

"My thoughts exactly." Harry snapped sarcastically. "Now move!"

Draco responded and sprinted down the chamber, Harry following closely. They had taken about twenty steps, when Harry felt the floor shudder as something large landed on it. The shaking knocked Draco off balance and he fell heavily. Harry stopped running. Draco was about to turn his head to look behind them but Harry grabbed it and forced it towards the doors.

"Don't look at it, it'll kill you!" he said forcefully, and hauled him to his feet. Cradling the flask of Basilisk venom with his right hand, Draco grabbed Harry's hand with his other and they ran down the chamber. Harry could hear the Basilisk slithering along the corridor, getting steadily closer. He knew they wouldn't make it to the doors in time. He plunged his hand into his robes and brought his wand out, folding into the hand that was wrapped in Draco, so they were both touching it.

"Close your eyes, and whatever you do, don't open them!" he shouted. Draco nodded frantically and closed his eyes. Taking a deep breath, Harry followed suit and turned them face where he hoped the Basilisk was. "IMPEDIMENTA!" he bellowed. Magic surged through the matching scars, Draco's magic being drained from him as Harry called upon it, throwing all his own magic into the spell, praying to whoever was listening that it would work.

Drained, Draco collapsed to the floor, pulling Harry down with him. Crying out, Harry swore as he landed heavily on his wrist. The foundations of the chamber were shaking at the surge of magic that had been put to use. Harry cracked his eyes open, keeping them trained on the doors, and pulled Draco behind a pillar, not daring to look behind them. Draco moaned as he was moved, and Harry placed a hand over his mouth to silence him. He listened for a moment, the only sounds his and Draco's laboured breathing. He couldn't hear the slithering of the Basilisk. Steeling himself, he peered around the side of the pillar.

The Basilisk was lying prone on the floor of the chamber, eyes closed. Sighing in relief, Harry removed his hand from Draco's mouth and leaned his head on Draco's shoulder, breathing heavily.

"You can open your eyes," he said quietly. "It's out cold."

"Nice work."

"Sorry I used all your magic. I just wasn't sure how much it would take to knock it out."

"It's fine. I don't need any magic to get out of here, do I?"

Harry suddenly realised that they were sat on the floor, holding hands, Harry's head on Draco's shoulder – and it seemed perfectly natural. He never would have thought of it like that a year ago, he thought wryly. He glanced at his watch, noticing that he still had his wand clutched in it.

"We need to be getting back. It's nearly ten o'clock. You don't want to be caught out after curfew, do you?"

"I'm already out after curfew." Draco pointed out, not moving from where he was sat. Harry prodded his side gently, and Draco squirmed. "Don't tickle me," he grumbled, seizing Harry's hand so he couldn't poke him any more. Harry chuckled against his shoulder and he breathed in his scent. It was something like ashes and something biter and something sweet. He closed his eyes and concentrated on memorising the scent of Draco Malfoy, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of Draco's hand.

When he woke up he was lying on his side on the cold stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets, something long and warm against his back. There was also something long and warm draped over his side and across his stomach. He smiled and yawned, peering at his watch again.

"Crap!" he yelped, sitting up suddenly and dislodging Draco's arm, waking the blond up. He looked adorable when he first woke up, Harry thought fondly. His eyes were half-open and his hair stuck up all over the place, he screwed up his nose and scowled at Harry.

"I was asleep, you know." He complained. Harry grinned.

"I know. And I also know that you have Charms in half an hour." Harry said sweetly. Draco stared at him blankly, then it sank in what Harry had just said.

"Crap!" he yelped, struggling to his feet. He ran over to the door and pelted through it. Smiling wryly, Harry followed, ordering the door closed again, noticing that the Basilisk was still out cold on the floor. He and Draco had some serious power between them. He locked the door and strolled leisurely down the tunnel, squeezing through the hole in the blockage and finally catching up with Draco, who was standing impatiently at the base of the entrance, his foot tapping the floor maddeningly.

"Take you time," he said curtly. "How am I supposed to get out?"

"The same way I got out last time, I suppose." Harry replied with a shrug. "Cicatrix!" he called to nothing. Draco raised an eyebrow. Then there was a burst of flames a few feet away and Cicatrix landed on Harry's shoulder, trilling happily. "Hello. I haven't seen you for a while. Will you take us out of here the same way Fawkes did the other time?"

Cicatrix trilled in agreement, and flew over to the entrance, his tail feathers waving. Harry took hold of them and beckoned for Draco. He drew the Slytherin against him, his spare arm wrapped around his waist. Draco leaned into his chest and Harry felt the slightly familiar feeling of extraordinary lightness as Cicatrix's tail feathers grew hot, and with a whoosh they were shooting up the pipe. Then, like last time, before he had time to enjoy the ride, they were hitting the floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Their feet squelched, and Harry grimaced. The bathroom was flooded.

"Looks like Myrtle's even more depressed than usual," he sighed, and stepped out of Draco's embrace. "Go on, get going. They'll miss you if you don't turn up for Charms," he added, pushing Draco towards the door. He pulled the Map out of his pocket and inspected it. There was nobody around. "Go on, you're clear."

"What about you?"

"I'll wait a bit, just in case. And I'm not in any lessons today, Dumbledore said I could take the day off."

"So? Are you going to?"

"I'll probably just take the morning off. I don't want to miss any more Potions." He looked up into Draco's grey eyes. "Snape knows. Dumbledore told him."

Draco frowned.

"But you said that Dumbledore promised he wouldn't tell anyone without asking you first."

"I know," Harry said heavily. "But he did." He offered Draco a lop-sided smile. "Just thought you might want to know. He's going to be acting weird in the lesson. Now go, or you'll be late."

Draco nodded. He pressed his lips briefly against Harry's before leaving.

"Ooh, has Harry got a boyfriend?"

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face Myrtle, who was grinning as she emerged from one of the toilets.

"Shut up, Myrtle."

* * *

There. Slash.

smokey


	16. To Being Gods

Hmm... well, as of last chapter, a plot is emerging. Kind of kicks off properly with this chapter. Hopefully it doesn't seem too contrived...

Thanks to the people that _did_ bother reviewing...

CHEERS JIM!

* * *

"Today, you will be studying Fatum Numen. It is a potion that for centuries, possibly millennia, people have been trying to successfully concoct. All who tried have failed. The true results of digesting such a potion are as yet unknown. Does anybody know the common name for this potion?"

Hermione's hand was up before he'd even finished asking the question.

"Anybody?" Snape sneered, blatantly ignoring her. "Does nobody know?" he turned his glare onto Harry. "Mr. Antares, have you not picked up the textbook at all this term?"

"It's not in the textbook, sir," he replied quietly, having spent a good amount of time while at Snape's manor reading the textbook. The Potions Master sneered at him, and finally turned to Hermione.

"Yes? What is it?" he snapped irritably.

"It's known as Nectar of the Gods, sir, and is most famous in pure-blood families. Is it said to give the drinker the powers of a god, and if taken while –"

"I asked for its name, Miss Granger, not its entire history," Snape sneered. "Five points for not deliberately not answering the question correctly."

Hermione flushed and lowered her head. Ernie patted her on the hand.

"Now, today you will be attempting to brew this potion. I highly doubt that any of you will be successful, but as a precaution I absolutely forbid that any of you ingest what you produce. The results could be catastrophic." His piercing gaze stopped on Harry. "Is that understood?"

The class murmured their assent, Harry glaring furiously at Snape, and he set them to work.

"This is one of the most complex potions I've ever seen," Draco bit his lip as he studied the list. "Look at this – bat lacewings, pig intestines, Hinkypunk teeth, dragon blood, boomslang, gillyweed, redwood sap, phoenix feathers… half of this stuff isn't even in the store cupboard."

"Plus you have to have something that represents the type of God you want to become," Harry pointed out. Draco put his hand up.

"Sir, are we going to be adding that part – the one that decides what god we're going to be?"

"Of course. I'll leave that up to you to decide."

After nearly an hour of working over the hot cauldrons, he and Draco were finally ready to add the final ingredients. Their potion was an inky black, blacker than night, sucking all light in. According to the textbook, this was the correct colour, to Harry's relief. He peered around the room. Hermione and Ernie's was a dark grey; Pansy and Boot's was a muddy brown; Zabini and Padma's was a vivid pink.

"We need to separate them off into two separate containers." Draco said, nose buried into the book. He pulled out his standard pewter cauldron (they had used Harry's silver one, as usual) and tipped half of the potion into it. He glanced up at Harry. "What are you going to put in?"

Harry glanced over the list of things that were commonly used when people attempted the potion. Draco snorted when he saw Harry looking.

"Oh come one," he said derisively. "You're not going to use something standard, are you?"

Harry glanced down at his hand, and saw that he was holding a small crystal vial of something. He opened his fist, and Harry could see the viscous, green fluid moving within in. He narrowed his eyes.

"You want to be the God of Snakes?" he asked sceptically. Draco shrugged.

"It's something different."

Harry sighed and forced his hands in his pockets. Since the episode with Ron and the broom cupboard, he had taken to carrying a vial of phoenix tears around with him, just in case. Draco nodded his approval.

"The God of Phoenixes."

"Not quite. Just something different."

The tipped the liquids into their separate potions at the same time, and ducked as both started fizzing violently. People around them stopped brewing to watch the potion. The changed colour – Draco's to a viscous, dark green, Harry's to pearly white. The same consistency and colour of the extra ingredients. They straightened and cast nervous glances at Snape, who was regarding them thoughtfully.

"Have your samples collected and ready in five minutes," he called out. "Then don't touch your cauldrons. I shall come and dispose of that which is remaining."

"Not likely," Draco whispered, and while Snape's back was turned, he and Harry filled a few small vials with their respective potions, then each filling a flask to present to Snape.

"We can try them tonight,"

"No, not tonight. We've got the Animagus thingy to go to," Harry reminded him. "Have you got a free tomorrow morning?"

"Yes, first thing."

"Then we'll do it then."

* * *

"I am going to cast a spell on our. In your mind's eye, a picture should be projected. This is what your Animagus shall be. Now, I shall do this in alphabetical order, so Mr. Antares first, if you please."

Harry walked up to Lupin – he had replaced McGonagall in their Animagus training sessions..

"Close your eyes and relax. Be prepared for your Animagus form." Harry closed his eyes and relaxed his mind. "Pateo!"

There was a fierce burst of light in his mind, and he winced. Then out of the darkness that had formed, a massive black panther came prowling. The light reflected off its blue/black fur, powerful muscles rippling beneath as it moved forward. It broke into a run, and Harry barely had time to react before it pounced, teeth bared in a growl, heading straight for him…

His eyes snapped open and he lurched forward, stumbling into the desk. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, and he was fully aware of everyone watching him. Lupin gave him a moment to collect himself.

"Did it work?"

"I think so." Harry said, coughing. Lupin nodded.

"Don't tell us what it is. We'll see in a moment." He raised his voice. "Miss Granger,"

Harry watched as Lupin cast the spell on Hermione. She stood still for a while before lurching forward in the same way that Harry. The same thing happened to both Draco and Zabini as they were called up. Once done, Lupin beamed at them all.

"Now, I want you all to focus your Animagus in your mind. Don't think of anything, just two things – your Animagus form, and being your Animagus. Don't worry about the incantation for the time being, I'll be in charge of that. Now, close your eyes and concentrate as hard as you can. Be ready to change, and keep a hold on the animal's natural instincts. Brace yourselves now. Permutare!

Harry felt something akin to taking the Polyjuice potion. His insides squirmed about, his bones reconfigured, and he could feel his face rearranging itself. Suddenly there was an explosion out of the bottom of his spine and he fell to all fours, his legs shrinking, muscles packing them out. His feet and hands turned into paws, steady against the unbalance of the rest of his changing body…

Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over. He opened his eyes.

Before him was a wolf, a salamander, and a fox. The wolf walked around him and sniffed his rear end. He jumped as the cold, wet nose touched his arse and moved sharply, growling fiercely. He wasn't worried – after all, he was more powerful than all the others were, he was at the top of this particular food chain – but it didn't harm to be cautious. He padded over to the salamander and poked it with one large paw. It hissed and snapped at him. In retaliation, he smacked it with his paw, sending it flying across the room with a snarl. He turned on the fox, which quivered in its place. He was about to reach it when he heard something, his extra-sensitive hearing picking up the whisper.

"Pateo!"

He shuddered as his body shifted back to its human shape, and looked up. Hermione was cowering before him. Zabini was lying on the far side of the room, Lupin bent over him. Draco was eyeing him, amused.

"You have an interesting smell." He remarked, and Harry flushed.

"You could warn me next time you try and stick your nose up my arse."

"Forgive me, but I wasn't aware that wolves had vocal chords."

"Git."

"Prat."

"James!"

Harry looked up at Lupin.

"Yes sir?"

"Do you see what I mean by the animal's natural instincts? Would everybody please share with the rest of us what their Animagus' natural reactions were? Hermione?"

"I was terrified." She answered truthfully. "The fox is a vulnerable creature, and could have been attacked by any of the others very easily. I felt threatened."

"Blaise?"

"I felt fine with Granger, I was a bit wary with Malfoy, and I honestly scared of Antares. I wasn't terrified though, but very defensive."

"Draco?"

"I wasn't the least bit worried about Granger or Zabini, but I was a bit wary of James."

"James?"

"I was just interested by the others. I guess I'm the top of this little kingdom in terms of predatory instincts," he mused.

"Indeed. Now, I would rather like each of you to have a go at the incantation yourselves. As none of you had any problems when transforming first time around, you will probably be able to manage it. The incantation is Permutare. Concentrate, now."

Harry visualised his panther in his mind's eye, what it felt like to be the panther, and kept repeating the incantation over and over in his head. Once he had repeated it about ten times, he felt the change begin. It was much slower than before, but then again, that was what these lessons were for. It took much longer, but was over within the minute. He opened his eyes. Zabini hadn't managed it, but the other two had. On impulse, Harry stepped around the back of Draco and sniffed his arse. The wolf yelped and whipped around to face an almost grinning panther. It was getting easier to control the instincts.

"Change back now, please." Lupin interrupted. "The word is Pateo."

Harry forced an image of himself into his mind, and was about to start the change back when he realised that he was picturing Harry Potter, not Jams Antares. Shaken by his almost revelation, it took him a while to get back to his human self.

"Excellent. Well, that's enough for one night. I'll see you back here he same time next week." Lupin said jovially.

* * *

Harry brought Draco up to his dorm the next morning after breakfast under the Invisibility Cloak. Ron and Seamus had lessons all morning, and Neville and Dean were in Herbology for the first period, meaning they had an hour and a half to take the potion.

"Cicatrix, if anything goes wrong, you have to cry on both of us to heal what you can, then go straight to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do," he told his phoenix. Cicatrix let out a low note of agreement, and settled on his perch. Harry locked the door, added a silencing spell, and turned to Draco, who was lying on his bed. "Is there anything else we need to do?"

"No, don't think so." He pulled both their vials out of his pocket, and grimaced. "They went back to black overnight. You can tell which is which by smelling them though. Mine's sort of acidic. A really sharp sort of smell. Yours smells sweet."

"Let's do it then, and Draco handed him his vial. He sat down on the bed beside Draco and unstopped it, raising it in a mock toast. "To being gods!" he said jokingly. Draco grinned and clicked his own vial against Harry's.

"To being gods," he echoed, and they drunk at the same time.

Harry felt the magic run through his body the moment the potion went down his throat and it occurred to him that if felt incredibly like the first time that he had touched Draco when they sealed the agreement. He looked blearily at Draco and vaguely registered that he was in the same state. He reached out and grabbed for him.

Harry's legs went first and he sank towards the floor followed quickly by Draco who could not support his weight in his current state. The magic was coursing through him and Harry knew it would do no good to resist it. He knew they were both collapsing onto the floor but there was nothing he could do to stop it and the best he could manage was keeping a hold on Draco. He absently noted that the stone was cold and then his conscious brain shut down.

"James?"

Harry's eyes snapped open at the sound of Dumbledore's voice above him. He sat up sharply. Draco was lying beside him, still unconscious. Snape was hovering in the doorway, looking both anxious and furious at the same time.

"What time is it?"

"Half past nine."

"Oh that's all right then."

"Would you care to tell the Headmaster and I exactly what you thought you were doing, ingesting a practically unknown potion, with no idea what the side effects would be?" Snape growled, moving into the room and slamming the door shut. Harry winced.

"We didn't think it was going to work. I told Cicatrix to heal us as well as he could if things went wrong, and go get Professor Dumbledore…"

"The fact remains, Potter, that you did something irresponsible and dangerous without a second thought to others. Who knows what you had to do to make Mr. Malfoy drink that potion…"

"I didn't make him do anything!" Harry objected, glaring at Snape. He turned to Dumbledore. "Do you know if anything's happened to us?"

"I'm afraid I don't. The potion is so rare that nobody has any idea ho it works or what the side effects are. We will simply have to wait and see."

"Would you care to tell me exactly what the extra ingredients were, Potter?"

"Mine was phoenix tears, Draco's was Basilisk venom."

"Basilisk venom."

"Yes. We've got a whole flask full. Draco was going to give you the rest of it."

"And where, pray tell, did you get the Basilisk venom from?"

"The Chamber of Secrets?" Harry winced as Snape scowled, but fortunately said nothing.

"Harry, we will need to discuss your punishment with Professor Lupin who, by the way, is stepping up to fill the position of Head of Gryffindor House. In the meantime, I suggest that you make a note of any unusual occurrences." He pointed his wand at Draco. "Enervate."

Draco mumbled something and rolled over up against Harry. The Gryffindor prodded his ribs, and he giggled.

"Don't tickle me," he muttered, face buried in Harry's knee.

"Wake up, we have company." Harry said jovially, prodding him again. Draco raised his white-blond head out of Harry's knee and looked around, blushing furiously when he saw Dumbledore and Snape, one of who twinkled, the other of whom scowled.

"Hello, Professors," he said weakly, attempting a smile, which withered under Snape's glare.

"You should know better," the Potions Master admonished. Draco cowered.

"You said it wouldn't work anyway," he protested.

"I said I highly doubted that it would work. There's a difference."

"Sorry sir," he said meekly, and bowed his head. Snape sighed.

"I suppose all we can do now is wait and see what will happen. I trust that you still have the containers for your potions?"

Harry and Draco looked down, and saw that their vials were surprisingly still clutched in their hands. They offered them to the Potions Master, who labelled them. With a curt nod to the Headmaster and another piercing glare at the two boys, he billowed out of the room. Harry stared at the spot from which he'd disappeared and asked Dumbledore a question he'd been wondering about for a long time.

"Does Professor Snape use a charm to make his robes move like that?"

"You know, I think he might," Dumbledore twinkled. "I certainly have never been able to make my robes billow in such a threatening manner."

He stood gracefully and walked over to the door, pausing before he left to turn to Draco.

"Don't forget, Mr. Malfoy. You have Muggle Studies to attend in less than half an hour."

Harry stood up as Dumbledore left, and helped Draco to his feet.

* * *

Yeah... the subject of Snape's robes has always intrigued me...

See! Plot!

It kind of annoys me when people pick really stupid Animagus forms for Harry, so hopefully a panther isn't too cliché...

Oh yeah... and someone has asked me if I'm American.

NO!

British born and bred and bloody proud of it. Have none of you Americans noticed the wonderful language of the Brits floating around here?

Reviews are nice. Hits are too, but I'm the only one who can see them so it doesn't really count. I have about 2338, just in case anyone wondered...:P

smokey

likes trees


	17. Side Effects

Um... I'm pretty annoyed at the moment, because every single of my fics has ground to a halt. This one... has 25 chapters and now it's stopped moving. Running the Gauntlet is too much of a trial to even try and write, all I know is that in the next chapter the Slytherin Quiddicth Trials take place. So, any suggestions will be so much more than welcome.

Happy Bonfire Night people!

_(NB **For American's reference** Bonfire Night is when we Brits burn effigies of fanatical terrorists in mass funeral pyres around the country whilst setting off fireworks to recreate the martyrdom of a female saint. Someone called Guy Fawkes tried to blow up Parliament and King James exactly 400 years ago. We celebrate every 5th November with massive bonfires.)_

* * *

Harry didn't see Draco again that day until Potions, during which Snape was even more acerbic than usual. He took it up himself to deduct points from Gryffindor at least once a minute, and didn't award any to Slytherin – his way of showing that he was angry with Draco.

However, it wasn't until Defence that he got a chance to talk to Draco.

"Has anything happened to you? To do with the potion?" he whispered as Lupin began talking.

"No. I'm beginning to think that it maybe hasn't worked or something. I don't eel any different at all. Pity. Being gods could have been fun."

"You didn't really expect it to work, did you?" Harry incredulously. "I thought we were just messing around."

"You doubt my ability in Potion-making?"

"Well no, but Snape said that it hasn't been successfully brewed for centuries."

"Do you trust him more than me?"

"He is the Potions Master."

"That's beside the point,"

"Gentlemen!"

Harry and Draco turned to face the front, Draco still glowering. Harry gave Lupin an innocent look, who returned it with an amused smile.

"As I was saying, this curse causes a state of lethargy that is sometimes fatal. As usual, I'll be performing it on each of you in turn, so you know what it feels like. All that will happen is that you'll feel very tired, and probably go to sleep. I have no intention of using the curse against you. So, doing this in alphabetical order, Mr Antares please."

Harry stood slowly and walked up to the front, where Lupin had conjured another bed. He climbed up and lay down, closing his eyes and waited for Lupin to cast the spell.

"Obdormiscero."

His eyes snapped open momentarily, then dropped shut. He could hear the faint sounds of the classroom around him, but they quickly faded as he fell asleep. A few seconds later he was awake again, trying to open his eyes, but only just managing to force them open halfway before they closed. Really, it was much more comfortable to keep them shut. They hurt a bit when he tried to open them. Again, the classroom drifted in and out of his hearing, but this time when it came back it was because he had felt an odd warm surge around where his kidneys were. By sheer force of will, he dragged his eyes open and made them focus on Lupin's face, who looked slightly surprised. Suddenly the curse was lifted, and he felt fully awake.

"Well, that was unprecedented." Lupin said as Harry sat up. "James nearly managed to throw the curse off."

Harry rubbed his neck as he stood and went back to his seat, feeling oddly alert. The feeling in his kidneys had gone and he watched, bored, as the rest of the class was put under the curse.

By the end of October, the only apparent side effects of the potion were the surges of warmth that occurred in his kidneys that gave him an extra boost of power. Other than that, nothing had happened – the same was true of Draco as well. He had tried talking to Cicatrix, seeing if he could connect with the phoenix on some sort of level, then realised how stupid it was, expecting a bird to talk back, and had stopped. Draco was having no more luck with snakes unless he took the Lingua Omni – something that he'd become accustomed to over the past two months.

Harry was – though he would not admit it to Draco – disappointed that the potion hadn't worked. It was a shame, especially when they had put so much effort in. Plus it would have been interesting to become gods.

He climbed out of the carriage as the stopped outside Hogsmeade and wrapped his cloak more tightly about himself. The bitter November wind was sharp and stung his face. Draco stepped down beside him and took Harry's right hand in his left, twining their fingers together.

"Where do you want to go first?" he asked, shivering.

"I don't mind," Harry replied. "Three Broomsticks for a drink?"

They trudged up the snow-covered path through the village, avoiding excited third-years that ran through the narrow streets armed with snowballs. Even though it was the third Hogsmeade visit, they still found it extremely exciting. He was sure he wasn't that bad.

Draco pushed open the door to the Three Broomsticks and held it open for Harry, who stepped into the warmth. He moved to a table across the room and sat on the velvet-covered seat. Draco sat next to him and took off his gloves.

"Do you reckon she'll sell us Butterbang?" he asked, jerking his head towards Madame Rosmerta.

"How old do you have to be?"

"Well seventeen technically, but she'll sell us some if we can work the right charm."

"It's your birthday in just over a month, we'll be all right."

"OK then," Draco went up to the bar to order two Butterbangs. As Harry scrubbed his hands over his face in an attempt to warm it, Ron and Hermione came in. Ron caught sight of him. He whispered something to Hermione, who nodded and sat at a table on the opposite side of the room. Then he came over and leaned on the table that Harry was sat at.

"What?" Harry snapped at the red face glaring at him.

"Just noticed that you've got no friends, and thought I'd rub it in,"

"Why are you acting like this? This isn't how you used to be." Harry frowned.

"You wouldn't know that. Or would you? I still think there's something about you. I saw the way Dumbledore was around you when there was the attack. You've got some connection to Voldemort, haven't you? He took you and Malfoy off somewhere. Then Voldemort possessed you. There's something weird about you. And I'm not the only who's noticed. That's why you have no friends. Because nobody trusts you," Ron hissed.

"Is there a problem?" Draco asked mildly as he slid into the seat next to Harry and handed him a Butterbang. Harry scowled at Ron.

"No. No problem," he muttered. Draco's hand slipped under the table to rest gently on Harry's leg, reassurance that he was there. Ron sneered at him, so Harry took a gulp of Butterbang, trying to ignore him. His right hand was resting on the table, and he had an odd urge to grab Ron and throttle him.

"I'm not finished, Antares," Ron snarled. Harry felt a familiar warmth start spreading out form his kidneys.

"Please Ron, just go," he said, almost nervously. He wasn't sure what his magic would do if he suppressed it for too long. He could feel the wood of the table growing cold beneath his hand, and started shaking. Draco's hand on his leg squeezed gently.

"I'd advise you to leave, Weasley," he snapped. "You're agitating James."

Ron seemed to have noticed that the table was freezing over around Harry's hand, which occasionally emitted small golden sparks. With one last look that was both suspicious and frightened, he turned and marched over to where Hermione was waiting, no doubt to tell her what had happened. Draco lay his hand on Harry's on the table, and the ice that had frozen the table receded, but under Harry's hand the wood was rotten and dead.

"Do you want to go see Dumbledore about this?" he asked quietly, but Harry shook his head vehemently.

"It's nothing. I just need to keep it under control."

"You do realise that this is a side effect of the potion, don't you?"

"It doesn't matter. It's nothing big. I'll be fine,"

Draco didn't look convinced, but he didn't press the matter. They drank their Butterbangs in silence, and after a few minutes Harry's hand slipped under the table to rest on Draco's. He finished his drink and leant back against the wall. Draco raised an arm and he slipped under it, pressing his face into his chest.

"People are giving us funny looks," Draco remarked. Harry could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest.

"And?"

"I've never been given funny looks before,"

"Welcome to my world," Harry murmured. "Why, is homosexuality frowned upon in wizarding societies?"

"I think it's about the same as with Muggles. The purebloods don't like it because it's bad for procreation. Doesn't produce heirs. But it's not that uncommon. Don't worry."

"I'm not worrying," Harry protested.

"Fair enough. Where do you want to go next?" Draco asked, fingers sifting through Harry's hair. He pressed his lips briefly to Harry's temple.

"I don't mind. Wherever."

"That's not helpful,"

"Do I look like I care?"

"Not really," Draco admitted. "How about that joke shop the infernal twins have started? I hear it opened a few weeks ago. We could go have a look around."

"I doubt we would be welcome there." Harry snarked. "Unless you just missed the last exchange I had with a Weasley, it was hardly kisses and hugs."

"I doubt that they would refuse custom so willingly."

"They hate you!" Harry protested, hoping he wouldn't be offended. He wasn't.

"The feeling's mutual. But it could be amusing. Come on," he said, standing and pulling Harry to his feet. The walked out of the pub, and Harry shivered, pulling his gloves on. He was slightly surprised when Draco wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer, but didn't protest. The warmth his boyfriend offered was more than welcome, even if they did get weird looks for it.

The twins had put nearly everything Harry could remember up for sale, as well as many things he'd not heard of. Skiving Snackboxes, Fainting Fancies, those things that gave you nosebleeds, and all those others – the fireworks, the swamp that had earned them their dramatic escape from Hogwarts, and loads of other products. Draco insisted on buying at least one of most things, much to Harry's embarrassment, and he was dragged around the village for the next two hours carrying Draco's bags as he flitted from shop to shop like a butterfly, buying at least on thing in each shop.

"Damn, I've run out of money!" he exclaimed as a clear glass pen caught his eye. "Pity, that's a really nice pen," he moaned.

"I'll buy it," Harry said automatically. He picked the pen up and took it over to the cashier, handing over ten Galleons. Draco scowled as he admired it.

"You don't need to rub it in," he bit. Harry looked at him in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"You bought it just to spite me!" Draco complained.

"No, I didn't," Harry said with a laugh. "I bought it _for_ you."

Draco stared at him, stunned.

"Why would you do that?"

"Well, you didn't have enough money left, and I've got plenty, and you seemed to want it quite badly, so I just thought that you maybe wouldn't mind if I…" he trailed off as Draco stared at him in disbelief. "Sorry," he said softly.

"No, don't be. Thank you, it's really nice," Draco said firmly, and kissed him quickly on the forehead. "I was just being a twat, ignore me."

"OK. I was just thinking for a moment that I'd done something wrong," Harry admitted, and Draco chuckled.

"Little James, so naïve." He teased, and Harry poked him in the ribs. Harry stepped away from him and started looking around the shop. He paused beside a cabinet that sold watches. Four caught his eye – a pocket watch with an obsidian face and numbers made of dragon's tooth, on a silver chain; a wristwatch with black leather strap, a silver face with the numbers carved in, and two that weren't really watches. The first was like Mrs. Weasley's kitchen clock – a pocket watch that you could charm to show various activities or places, and add hands of people as you wished. The other had no numbers or hands, but when Harry put it on his wrist white words appeared on the black face, proclaiming 'Time to buy a watch'.

For a good ten minutes he deliberated on which to buy. After many prods from Draco to get on with it, he eventually settled for the Weasley watch. He paid fifteen Galleons for it and slipped it into his pocket along with the instructions.

"I'm just going to some other shops, I'll meet you in the Three Broomsticks in half an hour," he said to Draco.

"I'll come with you!" Draco said brightly and started following him out of the shop.

"No, you're not," Harry growled. He pushed Draco back to the middle of the shop. "You're going to stay right here and amuse yourself for half an hour,"

"But I want to come with you!"

"Believe me, you don't," Harry reassured him.

"What makes you so sure?"

"I just know, all right?"

"Why, what are you going to do?"

"I'm not saying!"

"Tell me!"

"Fine!" Harry snapped. "I'm going to go get your birthday and Christmas presents,"

"Oh!" Draco said, and blushed. "Sorry. I'll stay here,"

"Yes, you will," Harry glowered, and stormed out of the shop. Muttering to himself, he stalked down the street and wandered in amongst the shops, looking for inspiration. He decided not to get Draco's Christmas present yet – he had one more Hogsmeade weekend to get it in – but this was his last chance before his birthday. He paused outside Zonko's and peered in. He could possibly get something here. Moving inside and to the back of the shop, something caught his eye. Three packs of ten pencils was sat on one of the shelves in the corner. They looked fairly uninteresting. He couldn't read the name, but the slogan was clear enough – 'Bring your drawings to life!' it proclaimed. Frowning, Harry turned the pack over. It was faded beyond belief, but there was a date of manufacture printed on the bottom along with various details.

1973.

"May I help you, sir?" asked a voice very close to his ear. He jumped, and turned, nearly dropping the pencils. The shopkeeper saw what he was holding and smiled mysteriously.

"Ah, yes. I found those in the back storeroom a few days ago. They didn't sell very well when we first produced them – nobody seemed to realise their full potential. Will bring any drawing to life, though," he reassured, giving Harry a hopeful look.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, but can you remember anyone who bought these pencils first tie around?" Harry asked politely. He had a niggling feeling.

"Why yes. James Potter and Sirius Black bought some, and kept coming back for more! I think they understood true quality when they saw it,"

Harry grinned, suspicions confirmed.

"How much are they?"

Having bought all three packs and several rolls of enchanted parchment, Harry walked out of the shop ten minutes later feeling extremely satisfied. He had the means now, he was sure of it, to produce another Marauder's Map. With a slight bounce in his step, he progressed to the next shop. He wasn't one to buy one expensive thing for presents – he preferred to buy lots of little things. The more random, the better.

He stepped into the jewellers, and cast his eye around the rings available. He saw one specific one that was rather cheap – only three Galleons – and took a closer look. It was a plain silver band. He bought it and pocketed the small bag, moving onto a small shop he had discovered during the fifth year that sold precious stones and crystals. Feeling like splashing out, he bought two grams of minuscule emeralds and one gram of obsidian, then wandered out again, buying more and more little things.

"You're late," Draco admonished as he stumbled into the pub half an hour later.

"Sorry,"

* * *

See? It's just slowing down. Another five or so chapters and it slows right down.

Reviews are nice but by now you know the whole plead so I'll settle for just "Reviews are nice."

And again, "Reviews are nice."

Hmmm... yeah, all the following description of Harry's power are actually inspired by the film "Princess Mononoke", from the Studio Ghibli team. Excellent film.

I really can't be arsed...

Suggestions for Running the Gauntlet (info at top) will be **LOVED BEYOND RECOGNITION!**

smokey

wants you to die now.


	18. Into the Forest

I am **_so_ **sorry about typos and, more embarassingly, plot holes. You're right, it's all my beta's fault... but I won't fire her because I'd end up using her again anyway. I let her know your feelings concerning faults though with several loud words so she knows she's in trouble.

Kidney power! There's more of it here!

Smokers aren't pigs. You're just a narrow-minded person. And if you actually read it properly, he only went without food for three days, and he never finished all his water.That's completely possible. He was rescued after a week. And... did it not occur to you that Snape might charm his fireplaces to not admit people? He's not stupid, you know. It annoys me when people say stuff like that when they don't know what they're talking about. At least Draeconin's plot holes were completely correct.

And you know what? They have no remorse whatsoever for their escapade in Hogsmeade!

Right, now I'm finished ranting... thanks for the POSITIVE reviews, please keep them coming people.

* * *

It was three weeks before Harry got around to charming the watch. He read the instructions carefully and took out his watch. First, he set it for two hands, his and Draco's, and after a moment's thought, tried Voldemort's. To his surprise, it seemed to work to all intents and purposes. He watched, fascinated, as the three heads materialised on the tiny hands – one with messy black hair, one with white-blond hair, and the other with… no hair. But very white skin.

Next was the 'times'. He decided on to use most of what was on the Weasley clock – at home, hospital, lost, in classes, in bed, detention, teacher's office, somewhere else, and mortal peril. For the moment he couldn't think of any more, so he set those 'times' and was pleasantly surprised to find that there was an extra feature you could charm in. It was to have the activity to be inscribed on the hand.

As Harry added this feature and set the watch, the hands moved – Draco's to 'at home', 'reading', his own to 'at home', 'working', and Voldemort's to 'somewhere else', 'having fun'. With a feeling that Voldemort's idea of fun was probably not pleasant, he grimaced and started down into the dungeons.

"Do you want to go into the Forbidden Forest?" Harry asked five minutes later, bouncing down on Draco's bed like an overactive five-year-old. Draco looked at him over the tops of his reading glasses from where he sat reading a book on the Dark Arts in front of the fire, giving him an appraising look, and Harry certainly felt like a naughty five-year-old.

"While you clearly have nothing better to do with your time than find as many ways as possible to lose points, I personally have an assignment to do."

"On the Dark Arts?" Harry asked sceptically.

"No, on Muggle communication systems. I'm taking a break,"

"Well I can help you very easily there. I was raised with Muggles, remember? Besides, we haven't done anything interesting for ages. I'm getting bored."

"Only boring people get bored," Draco said airily, and absorbed himself in his book once more. With a whine, Harry crawled off the bed and over the floor, coming to a halt at Draco's feet, which were stretched out before him. The Slytherin gave him a disapproving glance before turning back to his book. Harry moved to sit on Draco's shins, his knees either side of his legs, arms resting on his thighs. Distracted, Draco closed the book with a sigh and put it on the table, taking off his reading glasses.

"I've never seen you wear glasses before."

"That's because I never have, really," Draco replied. "I learned the vision alteration charm over the summer before second year so I wouldn't have to wear them."

"That's a complicated spell," Harry stated, impressed. He'd attempted it a few times, but hadn't been pleased with the results. It only lasted about eighteen hours, anyway, and he didn't mind wearing glasses.

Draco quirked one eyebrow up. "It was important to me. My mother helped me learn it."

"Are you being vain again?" Harry asked cheekily.

"Yes, very. Now why do you want to go into the Forbidden Forest at –" Draco paused to check his watch. "– seven at night? Considering we only have an hour left before curfew," Draco reminded him. Harry pouted, and Draco rolled his eyes at him.

"Don't. It's not endearing," he said. Harry scowled.

"Look, I've done my watch!" he said happily, pulling his watch out of his pocket and thrusting it into Draco's face. He jerked his head out of the way and took it, studying the face.

"Apparently I'm 'being coerced'." He said mildly, and glanced at Harry with an amused look. "And you're 'coercing'. Fascinating thing, this." He peered at it. "Voldemort's having fun. Probably torturing someone," he commented absently, and handed the watch back to Harry, who stowed it back in his pocket. "That's a bit confusing." he said slowly.

"What is?"

"Well, you'd think that if it were that easy to put the Dark Lord onto a clock like that, people would have tried it before."

"Maybe it's because I'm special." Harry said, with a ridiculously cheesy grin. Draco snorted rather indelicately.

"You keep telling yourself that."

Harry scowled.

"So do you want to come or not?"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Why Harry, I didn't think you'd be so forward," he practically purred. Harry blushed a beautiful crimson.

"Don't be obtuse," he hissed, but Draco grabbed his arms and pulled him up onto his lap. He pulled Harry's head onto his shoulder and spoke softly into his ear, making shivers run down Harry's body.

"I'll only come if we go in our Animagus forms," he whispered, and flicked his tongue out to Harry's ear. Harry relaxed in his arms.

"If you insist," he agreed complacently, shifting to swing his legs over the arm of the chair, Draco's right arm wrapped around his waist and his other hand entwined with Harry's right, magic flowing between the scars. Harry nuzzled his head into Draco's neck and kissed the pale skin.

"Do you reckon anything's happened properly with that potion?" Draco asked thoughtfully. Harry stopped planting small kisses on his neck and snuggled into his chest.

"Only those warm bursts in my kidneys. You're still getting those, aren't you?"

"Yes, they give my power a boost. It only happens when I feel extremes of emotion, or feel threatened. But don't you remember that day in Hogsmeade?"

"Hmm?"

"When you were having an argument with Weasel. You made the table freeze around your hand, and it was all dead where your hand had been," Draco reminded him.

"Maybe you can do something like that. Have you tried?"

"No," Draco admitted. "Why?"

"Well, I thought that if you're going to be trying out your powers, then we need to be some place where we're away from everyone else, and it doesn't matter if we make a mess… but I can't think of where…"

"Oh yes you can," Draco sighed. Harry chuckled into his chest

"Of course I do."

"Merlin save me," Draco said dramatically. "I'm being coerced by a Gryffindor."

"What's wrong with that?" Harry chuckled.

"Nothing." Draco said heavily. "Come on then, let's get going."

"Harry climbed off him and pulled his Cloak out of his pocket, beckoning Draco to him and throwing the cloak over both of them. Draco wrapped his arm around Harry's waist and kissed his neck, making him squirm.

"Do that whilst we're walking and I'll stamp on your foot," he warned, and they left the dungeons. They only had to stop twice for teachers on patrol – once for Snape, once for Sprout – and were soon out at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Draco looked up at the looming presence and swallowed nervously.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked nervously. Harry gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Quite sure. You'll be fine as a wolf."

"I suppose so," Draco said, but he didn't sound at all convinced. Harry swept the Cloak off them and stowed it under a rock beside Hagrid's hut. When he looked over at Draco, he saw that he had already transformed. Smiling inwardly at his boyfriend's misgivings, he transformed himself.

Being a panther always gave him a sense of security he didn't find in many other places. He enjoyed the feel of the muscles rippling under his skin as they powered him forward through the Forest, and the heightened senses that picked out tiny noises where humans never could. He could hear a centaur galloping to the right; Draco breathing as he followed him; a bowtruckle scuttling into a tree as they passed; the rattling of several kodamas deep in the Forest.

After fifteen minutes of walking, they came to a clearing. As a team they quickly checked the place, Harry's ears and eyes, Draco's nose confirming that nothing was lurking. They both transformed back to their human forms and joined hands to cast several powerful wards up around the edges of the clearing. Harry sat down on a rock and gazed at Draco.

"Go on then," he urged. Draco looked at him completely nonplussed.

"Go on then what?"

"Go on then and see if you can manipulate your magic like I did. Just focus on that tingling that you get I your kidneys and work with it. Touch a tree. Here, there's a fallen branch over here. Try on this,"

Draco came over and knelt on the ground beside Harry, his left hand on the tree bark. He closed his eyes, a look of concentration on his face. Then suddenly he gasped and his eyes shot open. Silver sparks were crackling around his fingers. Harry pulled his hand off the wood eagerly, and promptly dropped it again.

Where the wood had previously been black and dead, it was now a rich brown and very much alive. A small bud was growing out of a crack, and sap oozed out. Draco looked up, aware that he was being stared at.

"You do it, the same spot I just did," he took Harry's right hand and placed it over the hand-shaped mark that he'd left. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on the warm surge that came from his kidneys. He could feel it building up, and eventually forced it out of his hand. As he opened his eyes to watch, gold sparks flicked out, exactly as they had done with Draco. But when he removed his hand, the wood was again black and dead. He stared at Draco fearfully.

"What's happening to us?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Draco said honestly. "Let me try something."

He placed his hand back on the branch and squeezed his eyes shut. Harry watched, and after a minute the familiar silver sparks started. But it didn't stop there. Harry stared, transfixed, as the wood around Draco's hand gradually turned alive again, the life slowly spreading out across the whole branch. Once it was completely alive, Draco's hand dropped from it. He blinked a few times.

"I'm not even tired." He murmured. Harry looked at him in shock.

"Using that amount of power, you should be exhausted!" he exclaimed. Draco shrugged.

"Go on, see if it works with you too. Go find something alive."

Harry looked down. The ground was covered in grass.

"This'll do," he said, and pressed his hand into the ground. Again he brought forward the extra power, but rather than stop, he forced it to keep going, to keep flowing out of his hand and into the grass. The grass crinkled up and turned brown, growing out in a circle around his hand. The ripple was almost at Draco when he realised what he was doing. He yanked his hand off the grass. Where it had been was burnt black.

"Sorry, I wasn't concentrating." He shook his head to clear it.

"No, don't worry. I don't think you could do me much harm as it is," Draco said dryly. "I seem impervious to you,"

There was a sudden explosion of sound to Harry's left. He twisted in shock and slipped off the rock to land with a painful thump on the ground beside Draco. There were at least a dozen centaurs fighting against the wards they had constructed.

"We'd better take them down," Harry suggested nervously. He took hold of his wand and waited for Draco to wrap his hand over them, adding his power. He spoke the incantation to get rid of the wards and stood up.

"How dare you section off this clearing as though it were your own, human!" one roared, and Harry vaguely recognised him as being one of those who had threatened to kill him the year before.

"We were just practising magic," he replied weakly.

"Magic? You were playing with magic in this forest? Have you no respect?"

"No, no, we haven't damaged anything," Harry said quickly. He reached down and grabbed the fallen branch from the ground. "Look, Draco made this branch come alive again…"

"Necromancer!" another yelled. They started to form a circle around them both. Harry quickly grabbed Draco's hand, joining their scars. But this time, instead of the sensation of having their hands dipped in something warm and soft, there was an explosion of power that shone briefly white. It clicked in Harry's mind – they were both terrified, and when their emotions were extreme, there powers came into full play.

"Stay away!" Harry warned, pulling his hand free of Draco's, and chanced a look at shi boyfriend. He was frozen in terror. "I mean it. I can kill you all. Don't come any closer!"

In truth, he wasn't sure if he could kill a creature by touch. The grass might have been a one off, but he could try and bluff their way out of this. The centaurs pawed the ground angrily, and Bane stepped forward.

"Do not threaten us, human. You forget that we are more intelligent than you. We know that no human has the power of death in a touch," he sneered. Harry swallowed and stepped back

"I'm serious," he said, voice wavering. "I don't want to hurt you,"

"I doubt you could, even if you tried," Bane snarled, and moved towards him. He began to circle Harry, preparing to strike. As his rump passed him, Harry threw his hand out to connect with the coarse hair. It was only there for a moment, but it was enough. Magic exploded out into Bane's flesh, and he reared away in a cry of pain. He stepped back away from Harry, and the Gryffindor could clearly see the hand-shaped mark on his rump.

"It burns!" Bane wailed, and lay down on the grass, trigging to rub it in. Harry bit his lip and grabbed Draco's frozen arm. He had an idea.

"Let us pass out of this forest unharmed, and we injure no more of you," he said loudly. A palomino that Harry didn't recognise stepped forward.

"Be that as it may, how do we know that you will keep your word?"

"If we don't you may kill us," Harry said simply. The palomino seemed to think for a while before conceding.

"We will allow you to leave unscathed. But do not think that this agreement will hold the next time you enter this forest. If you come here again, we will kill you," he said ominously, and turned his tail, leading the other centaurs out of the clearing. Draco visibly relaxed.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked, concerned. He looked at his watch, making a mental note to add 'Forbidden Forest' as a time, and consulted it. "Well, according to my watch we're both 'safe', so you needn't worry any more," he said comfortingly, and hugged Draco tightly.

"The only centaur I've ever seen was that one who was teaching Divination last year, and he wasn't anything like those ones. They're ruthless."

"Come on, we need to get back up to school. Are you up to transforming?"

Draco nodded, and they made their way back up to Hagrid's hut. Harry unearthed the Cloak from where he had hidden it and slung it over both of them. They made the journey back up to the castle in silence, not encountering a single teacher as they entered the Slytherin dorms. Draco collapsed face-first on the bed.

"Are you going to change before you go to bed?" Harry asked sceptically, and Draco responded with a grunt. Sighing, Harry climbed onto the bed and straddled his boyfriend's rear end, placed his hands on Draco's back. He began rubbing in slow circles, moving over his back and up over his shoulders. Draco relaxed beneath him and Harry could see a small smile forming on his lips. Harry continued for five minutes before his arms started to ache and he slipped off Draco to lie beside him.

"Something must have gone wrong with the potion," Draco said after a while. Harry shifted onto his side and propped his head up on his elbow.

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, ideally I should have a certain amount of control over snakes now, and you something with phoenixes. But neither of us has showed anything like that. Instead, you're killing things just by touching them. And I'm bringing things back to life. Hell, it seems that I've got the bloody phoenix things, what with their tears healing things!" Draco mocked, but Harry bit his lip.

"Is there a possibility that we took the wrong potions?" he asked nervously. Draco glanced at him.

"Unfortunately, yes. And it would make more sense."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, a Basilisk's venom brings almost instant death, and just looking at someone kills them. They're some of the Darkest creatures around. Pure evil."

"Thanks for the reassurance," Harry said sarcastically, and flopped back down. They lay in silence again for a long time, until eventually Draco shifted and moved up against Harry. Harry sighed, raising an arm, and Draco slipped under it, pressing his face into Harry's chest.

"Do you still want to know what my worst memory is?" he asked quietly. Harry was more than surprised by the seemingly random question, but did his best to hide it.

"Like I said, don't tell me if you don't want to." He said again. Draco looked up and fixed him with that grey stare.

"But do you want to know?"

"If I'm being honest, then yes, I do,"

"Then I'll tell you," Draco said simply. He fidgeted until comfortable, head on Harry's chest.

The last summer, the one after fifth year, Draco had returned home to find his mother had received the Mark and been made into a Death Eater. The information hadn't really surprised Draco – he knew it would only be a matter of time before Voldemort took her. She had always been cold and distant, but now, she was just purely sadistic. She never beat Draco – she wouldn't stoop that low – but she fed him lies of betrayal, striking him down verbally, hurting him emotionally. Over the next few weeks he started to retreat further within himself, becoming like she had been before. She made him feel worthless.

Then a week before the end of the holidays, Draco himself had been called forward to accept his Mark. His father and mother had escorted him to a clearing. The inner circle of Death Eaters were there – at least a dozen, if not more – and Voldemort was stood in the center of the circle, all glittering red eyes and snake-like nose. It was a cold night, Draco remembered, and he had wondered why the temperature could be so low on a summer night. The trees had swayed ominously as Lucius and Narcissa had taken their places in the circle, leaving Draco alone and shaking in the middle.

"Come forward and receive your Mark," Voldemort had said in a cold, high-pitched voice. Draco walked up to him unsteadily and knelt, kissing the silver hem of the Dark Lord's black robes. He kept his head bowed as Voldemort continued to speak.

"Draco Lucius Jacques Malfoy, are you willing to receive the Dark Mark?"

"I am," Draco murmured to the ground. In response, a long-fingered hand reached down and tilted his face up to look into the face of the Dark Lord.

"Then rise, and receive your future,"

Draco had stood, expecting to have to hold his arm out to be banded, but instead Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at him, a feral grin on his face.

"Imperio,"

Draco had choked as the Unforgivable hit him. He was tempted to resist, but wanted no reason for the Dark Lord to torture him, so he submitted to the gentle bliss.

"Take out your wand."

Draco slipped his wand out of his pocket and held it ready.

"Cast 'Diffendo' on your mother."

Had he possessed the capacity, Draco would have gasped, but as it was he couldn't. He tried to break out of the curse, but the foolish decision not to resist meant that it had taken complete control over him. Against his will, he found himself raising his wand.

"Diffendo" he choked out. Narcissa screamed as knives peppered across her body, slashing and stabbing around as she writhed on the floor. Curse after curse was inflicted upon Narcissa by Draco's hand until she was no more than a slumped heap of black robes on the floor. Suddenly the Unforgivable was lifted, and Draco fell to his knees on the hard ground. Voldemort stepped up to his mother and cast a spell he didn't hear. Then without a further word, he and all the Death Eaters strode from the clearing, leaving Draco with his parents. He stared at his fallen mother for what seemed to be an eternity, feeling nothing. He looked up when Lucius laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Come, Draco. She is dead."

Harry said nothing. He simply curled around the Slytherin, pulling him as close as possible, Draco burying his tear-streaked face into Harry's T-shirt. Harry gazed up at the canopy of Draco's bed, waiting patiently for the tremors to subside and his boyfriend to fall asleep, occasionally pressing his lips to the dishevelled blond hair until his breathing evened out and he relaxed in his arms.

* * *

I did say you would find out his worstmemory in chapter 16! I know, it's 2 chapters late, but anyway... I think something like that would freak out most people to be honest.

I found a joke about Harry...

Q: How many Harrys does it take to change a lightbulb?

A: One. He holds it in place and the world revolves around him.

Badoom-tch!

Well I thought it was funny...

smokey

it slowly losing her mind.


	19. A Birthday

Jimbo - ... I'm offended! You may ask why... I'll let you wonder about that...

FireOpal has tried to be a better beta... don't blame me if she cocks up though.

Thanks for encouragement... I was getting depressed that I don't have many reviews, but then I saw FireOpal's... they consist of about one line. Thank you for constructive reviews!

* * *

"It's my birthday in four days!" Draco said excitedly as he bounced on his bed. Harry sighed and tried to concentrate on the essay Snape had set them. Fourteen inches with the title 'Properties and Practical Uses of Kodama's Blood' and Draco had already finished, though refused to let Harry see.

"You can't copy me in the exam," he had pointed out.

"But I've only got eight inches! That's only just half!"

"Yes thank you I did take Arithmancy for OWLs,"

Harry put down his quill and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes, his glasses pushed up. He turned in his seat at the desk to look at Draco.

"You're more excited than a… a… a child who's got a very good reason to be excited," Harry finished lamely. Draco pulled a face, staring.

"You really need to work on your insults," he commented.

"I know," Harry said wearily.

"So, have you got my present yet?"

"Yes, and you know I have. I got it last Hogsmeade trip, remember?" He had, by now, drawn out the map of Hogsmeade (with some help of old maps he had found in the library) and was busy thinking of what to call it.

"Have you got me a bouquet yet?"

Harry simply stared at him.

"Oh yeah, forgot, Muggle-raised," Draco said knowingly, and beckoned Harry over to sit on the bed with him. With a dejected grumble, Harry abandoned the half-done essay and climbed onto the four-poster, laying down and burying his face in the dark green duvet.

"Go on then, tell me," he said in a muffled voice.

"Not whilst your face is buried in there," Draco snapped. Harry turned his face to Draco, and ended up squirming across the bed to lay his head beside his boyfriend's thigh.

"At your birthday, you're given a bouquet of plants with meaning," Draco explained, threading his fingers through Harry's black hair. "You get one every year. There'll be books on what different plants mean in the library if you need it,"

Harry didn't reply; Draco's fingers in his hair were very relaxing.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Draco asked for the sixth time as they made their way down the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Normally, Harry would have used the passage to Honeydukes, but at eight o'clock there was a chance that they'd be caught. Draco stumbled over a tree root as he walked along beside Harry.

"I told you, it's a surprise," Harry insisted. He had turned up that night at six wearing a pair of dark jeans and a dark green shirt, demanding that Draco get dressed (he was in his pyjamas) and then dragged him off across the grounds under the Invisibility Cloak. As they surfaced in the Shrieking Shack, Draco's whines became more petulant.

"Tell me or I'm not coming!"

"Oh you will come," Harry said determinedly, and pulled him down the stairs and out of one of the broken windows. They made their way through the snow-covered paths down the hill to the village. It twinkled merrily in the dark, looking every bit the little Christmas town with the snow swirling around, fairy lights sparkling and the large Christmas tree laden with decorations. Harry slipped his hand into Draco's as they trudged down the slope.

He led him down a side street that Draco had never been down before, stopping in front of a restaurant Draco didn't know existed. He glanced uncertainly at Harry, who just smiled, and tugged him into Dunaway's.

"May I help you?" asked a witch at a till in the entrance. She was wearing a smart royal blue uniform and had blond hair that was twisted into a neat bun at the back of her head.

"Yes, I have a table reserved for eight, under the name Antares," Harry said, stepping up to her.

"Certainly," the witch said, and ticked something off, stepping down from the small podium and opening the door for them. "This way please,"

They walked through into a room that was done in a dark wood – probably oak or mahogany – and deep reds. Candles burned on each table, the main lighting low, and through the windows Draco could see the snow collecting on the roads. The witch showed them to a table next to the window, and they sat down as she handed them menus.

"Would you like the wine list, sir?" asked waitress with brown hair.

"Yes please," Harry replied as he took off his coat.

"You do realise how weird this is, don't you?" Draco asked wryly once she was out of earshot. "A sixteen-year-old taking a seventeen-year-old out for dinner at a rather posh-looking restaurant? And do you really expect to be served wine?"

"I think you'll find that you can buy alcohol with a meal once you hit sixteen, so it's not a problem," Harry replied airily, and took the menu graciously from the waitress. He handed it to Draco. "You choose. You're the aristocrat here."

Draco took the proffered menu and peered at it. Harry watched with amusement as, with a practised eye, Draco cast his glance down the list and chose a wine. He signalled the waitress over.

"Château Haut-Briond, 1959. Magnificent wine," he added for Harry's benefit as the waitress nodded and went to fetch a bottle. "I love it. My father educated me in wines. I have sampled many wines, and this is my favourite." The waitress returned with the bottle and poured them each a glass, setting it down and leaving them to decide on the food.

"Oh, fantastic," Draco said enthusiastically as he browsed the menu. Harry raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirked up. "This all looks delicious. Fantastic." He repeated, and fell silent for a while as he chose his food.

"Would you like a starter?" Harry asked once he'd chosen. Draco glanced at him over the top of the velvet-covered menu.

"Are you sure? This is going to cost a lot as it is."

"Draco, it's your birthday. Now do you want a starter or not?"

"Yes then, I think I will. Are you ready?"

Harry nodded and motioned the waitress over. She pulled a minuscule notebook and quill out, set the quill upright on the parchment and looked expectantly at the Slytherin.

"Deep-fried calamari with hollandaise sauce for starters, and crown roast lamb in mint sauce with Duchess potatoes please," he said smoothly. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Prawn cocktail for starters, and chicken breasts in fettuccini sauce,"

The quill whizzed across the parchment, and within five seconds it had disappeared away into the pockets of the waitress's uniform.

"You meal will be with you soon," she said formally, and was gone in a blink of an eye. Harry sighed and folded his hands on the table, gazing at Draco.

"Is this all right?" he asked earnestly. Draco stared at him in disbelief.

"All right? Harry, it's bloody amazing. Thank you!" he said enthusiastically. Harry grinned. He had given the bouquet to Draco on his actual birthday, but was saving the Map for tonight – the Saturday – when he could take him out.

It had been pure luck, really – he had found the shop whilst looking for his birthday present the previous Hogsmeade trip, and had gone back a week ago to check it out and book a table. Well, Draco wasn't much of a Malfoy anymore, Harry knew that his father hadn't sent him anything but a Howler, and it was his seventeenth birthday – he was of age, and it was a big birthday. Harry felt he had to do something special. It had been a Hogsmeade weekend anyway, but they had slipped out under the cover of night to return for the meal.

"This is very nice, Harry," Draco said approvingly, casting his eye around the place. Harry had to agree. This was probably one of his better ideas. Draco's tone suddenly went serious. "And you know I'm grateful. But you really have outdone yourself. This is going to cost more than half the year has in their vaults."

"It's your coming-of-age. You're now an adult in the wizarding world. You deserve a decent celebration. It's tradition, even for Muggles. Don't dwell on it,"

Draco smiled ruefully.

"Does this mean I'm going to have to do something similar for your birthday?" he asked. Harry grinned back.

"I doubt you'll be anywhere near me for my birthday. It's the end of July. You'll probably be with a relative somewhere."

"Not likely," Draco scoffed. "Now I'm seventeen, I can buy a flat somewhere. I can practically denounce myself as a Malfoy, and cut all ties should I wish,"

"And do you want to?"

"I'm not sure," Draco said honestly. "By now, he'll have found out all about this. You and me. He'll either completely disown me, or decide it's some cunning plan to get to you. I would say that I hope it's the latter, but that's selfish and you'll probably end up getting killed," he said with a shrug. Harry reached across the table to where Draco's hand sat and slipped his fingers in between his.

"Don't think about it." He advised, and Draco sighed, but he was saved replying by the starters arriving.

"Thank you Harry," Draco said again as they made their way back up the hill to the Shrieking Shack, swaying slightly. After the meal Draco had decided that he would take Harry to the Three Broomsticks and buy him at least one drink, though it soon turned out to be more than just one.

"You already said thank you lots of times," Harry reminded him, elbows bumping as they moved. They squirmed through the hole and got to the trapdoor before Draco took out his wand.

"Sobrietus," he said exuberantly, pointing it at Harry. Immediately, the slightly detached feeling disappeared and he stopped swaying, blinking.

"Why did you have to do that?" he whined petulantly, not caring that he sounded like a small child. Draco raised an eyebrow and cast the charm on himself.

"Stay here. Don't go anywhere," he ordered, and started up the stairs. Harry sat down o the bottom step and waited obediently for him to return. He was dozing off, leaning against the mule post, when Draco tapped his shoulder and motioned for him to stand. Harry did as asked, and wordlessly followed Draco up the stairs and into the room in which he had first met Sirius properly.

Draco led him over to the centre of the room, then stopped and turned to face him, mere inches away. His hands slid down Harry's chest, undoing the buttons one by one as they made their way down. The clothing slipped off Harry's shoulders as the last button was undone, and Draco kissed him long and hard before moving onto the rest of the clothing, leading him over to the bed as his Seeker's hands danced over Harry's skin.

"Nox."

* * *

Come on people, is IS I can't get particularly graphic without boosting the rating...

Reviews VERY welcome,

smokey


	20. Bad Mistake

I know it's been a while coming, but hey, you get two at once! I've finally got it moving again - I've got up to chapter 25 written. I think the plot actually makes itself known in the next few chapters... something that I'm sure you'll agree doesn't often happen with me, if you've read my work.

In other news...

My sister is home for Christmas and she just won't stay still.

Also, I am being stupid with Damned Blood and missed two months out, jumping straight to December... with little bits in between... can't be good. I'll post once I've written the next bit. But that might be a while.

* * *

"In the Amazonian rainforests there are tribes of Indians as yet untouched by civilisation who could produce a better Dampening Draught than you," Snape sneered as he paused beside Harry's cauldron. He forced himself to ignore the snide remark and keep brewing by himself. Trust Draco to choose today of all days to get stuck in the Hospital Wing after a nasty accident involving Ron and a fist. Especially this lesson, in which Snape was making them brew random potions as their end of term test.

Harry peered at his runny green solution then over the room at Hermione's whose was the same colour but considerably more viscous. He bit his lip and read the list again, trying to work out where he had gone wrong. Ah, there it was. He had added too much Hippogriff urine. 5 grams too much, in fact.

"Sorry sir," he said quietly, hoping the man would just go away and ignore him. But the gods were against him, as they always were in Potions.

"Sorry?" Snape said softly. "You're sorry? Will sorry replace all those ingredients that you have just wasted? Will sorry create a new potion in a split second? Will sorry complete your end of term exam? No, I thought not. Detention at eight, Antares."

"Bastard," Harry said under his breath as Snape turned away.

"What did you say?"

Harry froze as the silky voice came floating through the air.

"Nothing, sir," he said quickly, realising as soon as he'd said it that it was not a good idea.

"I don't think it was nothing. Not at all. In fact, if I heard correctly, you called me a 'bastard'." Harry's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed painfully.

"No sir."

"Don't contradict me, mmm!" Snape choked as the Fidelius prevented him from revealing Harry's real name. He looked contemplative for a moment, which soon subsided into a feral grin. "I bet you're just like your father was. But then, you wouldn't know, would you? You never did know them."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from retorting. But Snape continued.

"I am sure that he would be very proud of you. I'm sure you're exactly the same as he was. Exactly the same characteristics, attitude, ego…"

A year ago, Harry might have been contradicting Snape. But now he knew better – now he knew that Snape was right. James was every bit as arrogant as Snape said. It was true, he'd seen him at it. His father had been an idiot. An idiot with an ego the size of Bournemouth.

"You ought to watch your tongue, Antares. Or you'll meet the same sticky end that your parents did," Snape finished in a soft voice.

"You know what?" Harry said suddenly. "I probably will. Yes, I think so. I'm sure Voldemort would be thrilled to kill me after all I've done."

Several audible gasps and one quiet scream came from the rest of the class, and Snape went white.

"Do not speak the Dark Lord's name in my class!" he hissed.

"Oh is Tom alright then?" Harry asked innocently. Snape went red.

"Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out of my classroom."

"Fine!" Harry yelled. He Vanished his cauldron and threw his equipment into it, slinging his bag over his shoulder and hauling the solid silver cauldron off the desk. The door slammed forcefully against the door as he approached and crashed shut as he got into the corridor.

Dropping his cauldron on the floor he yelled a stream of colourful expletives at the door, gold sparks flying off his hand.

That _bastard_! Harry had honestly thought that Snape was over his petty grudges. Well, Harry knew that his father and Sirius had made life hell for the greasy git when he had been at school, but that was still no reason to _still_ take it out on him. Fuming, he slapped his hand flat on the door.

For a few seconds his kidneys felt normal, then there was a sudden explosion more powerful than the previous ones. A deep, roiling heat burst forth, shooting up through his arm and storming furiously into the woodwork of the door.

The foundations of the school shook as the magic blasted into the door. The force knocked him off his feet and he crashed into the opposite wall. Senses reeling, he wasn't sure if he was sat on the ceiling or the floor when the door slammed open, banging on the wall behind it, revealing a particularly apoplectic Snape.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" he bellowed. Once Harry was rather certain of which way was up, he shrank backwards into the wall.

"Side effects of the potion me and Malfoy took," he said nervously. For a moment Snape looked perplexed, but then realisation dawned on his twisted face and he swooped down, grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him upright.

"Did you not think to go see the Headmaster about this?" he hissed, face mere inches from Harry's own. On closer inspection, his nose was very greasy as well, and he had a small scar just under his left eye.

"This hasn't happened before," he answered honestly. Well, it was true. He hadn't tried to blow up the door before now. Then again, maybe it wasn't the best idea to get smart. Snape angry was bad; Snape furious was deadly.

"We're going now," the Potions Master snarled and dragged him down the corridor, leaving his bag and cauldron upset on the floor.

"Why did you not come to me sooner?" Dumbledore asked, sounding exasperated and disappointed as he gazed at Harry. Harry himself felt like a naughty first year that had been caught not doing his homework. "I thought we were agreed that you would tell me when something happened."

Biting his tongue to stop himself from saying that they had not in fact agreed to anything, and merely stared at the floor.

"You could have seriously hurt someone. If Professor Snape didn't have wards on his doors, the explosion from your magic could have killed the people on the other side. You don't know what would have happened."

Suddenly realising just how stupid he had been, Harry flushed and brought his gaze to meet the Headmaster's.

"I'm sorry sir." He said quietly. "I didn't think. I'm not even sure why I did it. It's hard to control. The extra magic just comes as a kind of explosion around where our kidneys are…"

"Our?" Dumbledore asked sharply.

"Yeah, me and Draco, it's the same for both of us."

"Have the same side-effects taken place in Mr. Malfoy also?"

"Well not quite," Harry explained. "I can sort of make things shrivel up and die, but Draco makes them come alive again."

"Interesting…" Dumbledore murmured. "You say that your potion contained phoenix tears, and Mr. Malfoy's had Basilisk venom?"

Harry nodded.

"I have completed the tests on the potions, Headmaster," Snape put in from the corner. Harry started – he had forgotten that the man was there. "It appears that Malfoy and Potter took the wrong potions – that is, Malfoy drank phoenix tears and Potter drank Basilisk venom."

"Where is Mr. Malfoy now, Severus?"

"He's in the Hospital Wing. I doubt it would be a good idea to bring him up here today though, sir. He's not in the best of health at the moment. Weasley saw to that," Snape sneered.

"Alas," Dumbledore said mildly. "In that case, I am afraid that you will have to do, Harry." He said, and with a flourish of his wand, produced a branch out of nowhere. "Please show me the extent of what you can do," he said to Harry, and indicated that he should use the branch.

Taking a deep breath, Harry laid his hand on the bark. Concentrating on the extra magic, he built it up inside himself and forced it out through the scar on his hand. Familiar gold sparks danced over his hand and onto the desk, and the wood shrivelled, turning black and dead beneath his hand. He removed it and sat back in his chair.

Using his wand, Dumbledore levitated the branch and turned it this way and that in the air. Snape moved out of the corner and peered at the branch. After a while of umming and ahhing and hushed whispers that annoyed Harry no end, they set the branch down and Snape moved to the side of the desk.

"I am going to conjure a Dark creature, Harry. You will be in no danger with myself and Professor Snape here, but I would like you to try and perform the same procedure on it as you did with this branch." He pointed and the branch in question.

Harry nodded and braced himself as there was a pop and a puff of smoke that cleared to reveal a Fligglebutt. These were small, rabbit-like creatures that lured you towards themselves with their cuteness, then when you were close enough leapt on you and sank inch-long teeth into you skin, sucking your magic out of you. The best way to defend against one was to just steer clear, as they rarely approached people, but Lupin had taught them a spell to keep them at bay.

Harry stepped towards the rabbit, which immediately turned its quivering nose towards him and waited patiently for him to get closer. He complied, and once within three feet of the creature it sprang off the floor like it had springs attached to the bottoms of its paws and sank its teeth deep into Harry's left arm. He felt the dull throbbing of his magic as it pulsed through him, being sucked out of him, and for a moment panicked before gathering his wits.

Placing his right hand on the Fligglebutt's back, he concentrated on his magic, drawing it back out of the creature and forming it into a ball of something that he could see. With an extra push form his mind it exploded out of his hand.

The Fligglebutt stopped sucking straight away, going stiff all over. Then the thing shrivelled like the branch before it, dropping off his arm as a corpse, skin stretched taut over deteriorating skeleton, fur lank and eyes flat and glassy.

Harry swallowed audibly and just stared at the Fligglebutt's body. He was vaguely aware of hearing Snape move behind him and dispose of the dead animal. Then Dumbledore touched his arm, and his vision exploded in a burst of black spots.

"Harry!"

He whirled around, and was shocked to see that his vision seemed to have changed. For some reason, he could now see Dumbledore and Snape's magical essence. Dumbledore himself was glowing with an extraordinary white light, and his smoky magic was the same. Snape's was black and slithered around its owner like the snake he was.

Then suddenly he caught sight of another wisp of smoke. It was blue and feathery, but as Harry watched it, he noticed that it was all originating form the same spot – beside the grandfather clock in the corner. He walked over to it curiously, ignoring Snape as he strode past the Potions Master. He peered at where the magic as coming from and reached his hand out.

It hit something warm and solid that most definitely wasn't the wall, but a somebody.

He yelped and stumbled backwards. The person threw the Invisibility Cloak and off and with a growl stepped forward, wand raised. The blue smoke swept over Harry and he blacked out.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

Harry opened his eyes and glanced around the dark Hospital Wing. The torches on the walls were turned down and Harry guessed that it was probably night.

"Who was it?"

"You sure you want to know?"

"Of course I bloody want to know." Harry snapped. Draco gave him an affronted look. Sighing heavily, Harry buried his face into the pillow and groaned. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK. You're stressed out. It's perfectly understandable."

"Come up here," Harry shuffled over on the bed and Draco climbed up beside him, settling along his warm length and wrapping his arms around the Gryffindor.

"It was Cho Chang."

Harry head's snapped up and hit Draco's chin.

"Ouch." The Slytherin complained.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly and planted a small kiss on the point of impact. "You're kidding?"

"No. It was her. They're not sure if she was under Imperio or not yet. Whatever she was doing, something about her made you fall unconscious. Dumbledore and Snape quizzed me on my powers as well, which was unnerving to say the least."

Harry chuckled.

"They made me kill a Fligglebutt."

"I do hope you're not being serious."

"Why?"

"Because you'll have absorbed all the Fligglebutt's power as well as any it had already sucked out of other people. I sincerely hope that they had the sense to use a kitten at least."

"Um, it actually looked quite old," Harry said sheepishly. Draco pulled back to glare at him for a moment.

"Fool."

Harry smiled and snuggled into his boyfriend's chest, falling asleep in his arms.

* * *

Reviews extremely welcome and very much appreciated. You've taken the time to read the chapter - now please, spend just an extra half minute telling me what you think. It really does help me write.

Oh yeah thanks FireOpal...

smokey

isn't half as excited about Christmas as she should be.


	21. A Lonely Christmas

Yeah, here it is. Since nothing interesting happened in the two minutes since I edited the previous chapter... I have nothign interesting to write.

* * *

Harry wrapped Draco's present in dark green paper and dropped it into the bag along with the other presents. He'd decided to send something that had belonged to 'Harry' to each of the Weasleys and Hermione so that they didn't feel left out. He had stayed true to his word and given Ron his old Firebolt. For Hermione he had sent a book on the Dark Arts that he had bought at the start of fifth year and she had always peered over his shoulder to read. Ginny was getting Hedwig (after much persuasion on Harry's part; the owl was still slightly miffed that he had a new missive). For Fred and George he had packed a selection of experimental potions that he and Draco had brewed that could be used in some of their new sweets (with a note that Harry Potter copyrighted the ideas). Charlie was being sent the miniature Horntail he had received during the Triwizard Tournament, and Bill a list of curses (courtesy of Lupin) that the Marauders had invented. For Mr and Mrs Weasley he had sent a cheque for a thousand Galleons. This had been much against Draco's best wishes, but Harry knew that they would have no choice but to accept it. They deserved it, at least.

Biting his lip, Harry fingered the ring on his finger. It was the gold band that he had bought whilst shopping in October. Set in it in a simple pattern were some of the rubies, and in the middle was an obsidian chip. Draco's was pretty much the same, only it was silver with emeralds. Harry had raided the library for books on Charms and loaded the rings so much that he was surprised they didn't come alive.

"I want you to take this bag to Draco's first. Make sure he gets it and his father doesn't see you. There's a letter inside for him, he'll understand. He'll give you instructions on what to do after that, just do as he says please. Come back as soon as you're done."

Cicatrix squawked gently in confirmation. Harry offered him a slice of dragon's liver, which he gulped down hungrily, and taking the bag in his claws disappeared in a burst of flames.

Five minutes later the phoenix appeared again, jolting Harry out his reverie where he was sat beside the window. Taking the bag from Cicatrix, he opened it and stuck his hand in, drawing out a silver-wrapped, small but heavy present that he presumed was from Draco. There were also two letters – one with Draco's neat, looped handwriting and the other with Ron's messy scrawl. The main difference that whilst Draco's letter was addressed to Harry Potter, the one from Ron was for James Antares. He opened the one from Ron first.

_Antares,_

_It seems you have some connection to Harry. I told that I knew there was something odd about you – this just confirms my suspicions. Tell Dumbledore thanks for the presents, but he didn't need to bother. Mum and Dad are being particularly emotional._

_Just thought I'd remind you – my girlfriend is the cleverest witch in our year. She and I are currently looking into what your connection with Harry is. And mark my words – we WILL work it out. Hermione's good at that sort of stuff._

Sighing, Harry put the letter to one side and reached for the one from Draco.

_Harry,_

_Merry Christmas for tomorrow!_

_I hope you like your present. It's not much, but I saw it in a shop yesterday (yes, I'm sorry, I did only buy it yesterday, but you're hard to buy for!) and just thought 'That's Harry'. It's the thought that counts._

_Well, I was right – Lucius does indeed believe our relationship is a ploy to get to you. He's got a hunch that you have something to do with Harry Potter, and even though he can't work it out, that doesn't mean he won't come close enough to put you in danger. I'm warning you now, just in case. He may make me write some letters to you, the contents of which will be contrived and untrue. You'll know which ones these are because they'll be addressed to James._

_Are you sure it's a good idea to send all those presents to the Weasleys? Do they even deserve all that stuff? Yes, I'm nosy, you know I am, and if there's a letter I'm told not to open then of course I'm going to open it. And bloody hell Potter! A thousand Galleons? Are you mad? Their house wouldn't fetch as much as that! Are you trying to pretend that you swore to give those things to each of them when you died? Because that's kind of how the letter sounds. I bet the mother will burst into tears. But you seem to have missed a son out. Wasn't there that really annoying one who was Head Boy? Peter or something along those lines. What happened to him?_

_Using Cicatrix was an excellent idea. I suggest you use him all the time. Lucius had no idea that he'd been and gone._

_Again, I hope you like your present. Write back. I'll firecall you tomorrow and on New Year's Day, if that's all right. Snape says the fireplace is connected to the network._

_See you on the 6th._

_All my love,_

_Draco._

Smiling slightly, Harry tucked the letter into the drawer in his bedside table and put the present alone under the miniature Christmas tree he had Transfigured from an old branch into a wonderful little pine complete with non-melting snow and sparkling fairies.

He glanced out of the window. The black sky was dotted with twinkling stars that made him think of Dumbledore, and one over the Forest caught his eye. Remembering the old Muggle rhyme with a small smile, Harry wished upon the bright star.

The slow, gentle note of phoenix song woke him the next morning and he cracked his eyes open to see Cicatrix settled on his perch next to his bed, beady eyes fixed on his owner.

"Merry Christmas, Cicatrix," he said quietly, and looked around the room as he sat up. The rest of the dorm had gone home for Christmas, leaving him alone for Christmas morning. He looked over at his own personal Christmas tree and felt a small burst of joy at the two extra presents he had gained over night. He crawled out of bed, immediately regretted it, and cast a warming charm on the room. Sitting down on the floor in front of the tree, he cast a fire into the fireplace and crossed his legs, taking the first present into his lap.

It was wrapped in gold and Harry knew instantly from the narrow, loopy writing whom it was from. He pulled the wrapping paper off and out fell a box. Putting the wrapping to one side, he opened the leather box curiously and peeked inside. Something glinted in the firelight and he opened the box fully.

A silver dog charm was sat on the velvet cover. It was curled up in a ball, tail over its nose, when he opened the box, but when it noticed Harry it stood up and wagged its tail, sapphire eyes sparkling. It was about the size of a mouse, and looked very familiar. A note dropped out of the box and he picked it up.

_He'll always be with you. Take care of him._

"Hi Padfoot." Harry said quietly, and watched the dog snuffle around his palm for a few minutes before setting him down gently on the cabinet and moving onto the next present. He recognised Lupin's handwriting on the top.

There were two bracelets inside the packaging. Curious, Harry pulled them out and read the note included.

_Another of your father's childhood possessions that I think you will make use of. Wear one bracelet of the pair and give the other to someone else. You'll notice that there is a selection of stones set in the metal. I've written the various combinations for actions below. Once you put it on it will register to your magical signature, and nobody else will be able to use it. I had Dumbledore erase Sirius and James's magic so you and whomever you choose can use them. Hopefully you'll put them to good use._

_Blue and red: speak to the other_

_Blue and green: send information (you'll get the hang of it)_

_Red and green: takes you to wherever the other person is_

_All three together: Connects your magic (not recommended for use!)_

Harry slipped one band onto his wrist and the cold metal shrank to fit against his wrist snugly, so that he couldn't pull it off. The three stones flashed briefly before fading, the band stark against his pale skin. As quickly as possible, he slipped the other band back into the package and added his own hastily scrawled note in with Lupin's, sending Cicatrix off straight away to Draco.

He lifted Draco's present towards himself and tore off the wrapping paper. Inside was a box, made of ebony. It was about two inches each way, and rather heavy. There didn't seem to be any means of opening it, or doing anything else. Shrugging, he put it to one side and made a mental note to ask him what it was later that day when he firecalled.

As the morning drew on, Harry became more and more worried. It had been over four hours since he had sent Cicatrix off and still he hadn't come back – plus Draco had said that he would firecall. He found himself wandering down into the dungeons when a thought struck him and he made straight for Snape's office.

"Potter." Snape greeted, his voice as warm as an iceberg. "How unpleasant to see you. Go away."

Harry stopped the door from closing as the sour Potions Master tried to return to the room.

"Please sir, I need to ask you something. It's about Draco's." he half-lied. Snape paused, then beckoned Harry in and sat him down on one side of the desk, sitting behind it and steepling his hands.

"Go on."

"I would like to know you talked to him about after a blacked out on Wednesday. He said you were interrogating him – I wondered if you made him show you what he could do, like you did with me…" Harry trailed off at the look on Snape's face.

"You said this was about Draco. I thought it would have been important."

"It is!" Harry protested. "I wanted to know what extent his powers have advanced to, that's all."

"It is none of your business…"

"It's all of my business," Harry snapped in retaliation. "I want to know what you and Dumbledore think is happening to us. It's obvious that we're not just Gods of phoenixes and snakes. We've been made into something big. We're on a level higher than that."

"Arrogant as ever, I see."

"If you refuse to answer me, I'll just go ask the Headmaster. He's more likely to tell me straight."

"Professor Dumbledore is very busy today."

"Well then I'll just have to apologise and say that you simply refused to tell me."

"Fine then!"

Harry smiled innocently and leaned back in his chair. It was fun to annoy the Potions Master. Far more fun than it should have been. Snape stood and began pacing the room.

"The Headmaster and I believe that you have indeed, as you so eloquently put it, 'been made into something big.' It is apparent that your powers are obviously of some higher level, and we fear that you may both have more than you realise." He turned suddenly and fixed Harry with a piercing glare. "Do you know what you did to that Fligglebutt?"

"Er… killed it?" Harry said nervously.

"That sounds barely intimidating. Let me put it into perspective for you." Snape leaned on the desk and pursed his lips irritably. "You destroyed a creature with a single touch. You reversed a magical process whilst it was happening and sucked all the life and power out of a Dark creature. With a single touch."

"I know,"

"Don't interrupt. The point is, nobody else can do that. Nobody alive."

"The centaurs said that," Harry suddenly remembered. "They said that… what was it… no human has the power of death in a touch, I think."

"They are correct. They still are. For you are no longer human. You are a god. And so is Draco. When we called him in, he touched the body of a dying Kneazle and filled it with life. Admittedly his powers are not as strong as yours – he could not bring to life the dead Fligglebutt – but it was still impressive. I am sure that with an extra little bit of magic, he would be able to."

"So what are you saying?"

"I am saying, Potter, that you and Malfoy have control over death and life respectively. You are, to some extent, the Gods of Life and Death."

Harry stared at the Potions Master, who just went on staring right back. It took a while for his brain to process the information. It seemed to have frozen like the lake outside.

"You're kidding." He said finally, and Snape growled angrily.

"No, Potter. I don't joke. Now go, or I'll start taking points."

Moving numbly, Harry exited the room and wandered in a daze up out into the grounds. The grass was covered in snow and very few animals were moving around. The odd bird flitted overhead and every now and then a grunt could be heard form the direction of the Forest, but the grounds were otherwise silent, with few sets of footsteps across the white snow.

Walking out onto the middle of the large patch of grass in the center of the grounds, Harry fell to his knees and laid his hands flat on the ground. The snow seeped through his robes and soaked his skin, but he ignored the cold and focused all his energy into his hands, pushing it out through the palms and into the ground below. He held it all in, gold sparks flying more than before, magic building into great balls in his hands that roiled and seethed with anger and confusion before he pushed them out into the earth.

The ground shook as it exploded downwards with the magic and for a few moments nothing happened. Then suddenly all the snow within a hundred-metre radius sizzled and melted in a great cloud of steam and the ground started rumbling. Pressing his hands into the ground and pouring all his magic out, Harry shivered as the ground around his turned black and burnt, the grass dying and shrivelling away to nothing as the magic moved out in a ripple effect. Gold sparks formed a net over the area his magic had destroyed, giving it an oddly warm sheen. Keeping his scar in contact with the ground, he looked up and glanced around.

His magic was moving steadily outwards, annihilating everything in its path, and the gold web was fading now. He heard a yell from the direction of the castle and looked up. Lupin, Dumbledore and Flitwick were moving towards him across the snow (Lupin was running, Flitwick was waddling, and Dumbledore was gliding rather quickly), shooting various hexes and Stunners off towards him, but they were all deflected. They retreated as the ripple of magic advanced upon them.

"POTTER!"

Harry jerked his hand from the ground and fell backwards in an ungainly fashion, landing on his arse. Snape strode furiously over the blackened land and towered over him menacingly.

"JUST BECAUSE I TOLD YOU DOES NOT MEAN YOU NEED TO GO AND TRY IT OUT! YOU REALLY ARE AS THOUGHTLESS AS I PRESUMED. NOW GO BACK INTO THE CASTLE AT ONCE! DETENTION WITH FILCH AS SOON AS SCHOOL STARTS AGAIN FOR A WEEK!"

Harry scrambled to his feet and ran up to the castle, no once pausing to look at the no doubt astounded looks on the other teachers' faces.

"Harry?"

Harry turned quickly towards the fireplace. He was sat in an armchair close to the common room fire, and the sudden action caused him to fall off his seat. He landed hard and winced as a sharp pain shot up his leg.

"Ow."

"Are you all right?" asked Draco's head. Harry groaned and climbed back up onto the chair, picking his book up off the chair.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said absently, dusting himself down and settling to face Draco. "How was your day?"

"Fine. I love the ring. Nice charms."

"I think I spent enough time in the library to rival Hermione," Harry grinned. "By the way… not to sound ignorant or ungrateful or anything… but what exactly is your present?"

Draco stared at him, confounded, but then burst out laughing.

"Go fetch it. Bring it down here."

Harry sprinted up to the dorm and brought the box down.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful…"

"Harry, don't worry." Draco reassured. "It's called an Inoxicrom. It's a box, a safe house for nearly anything. It will be assigned to your magic once you use the activation spells, and then only you can open it. You tap it and the top will disappear. You can put absolutely anything inside. Anything will fit, it's got wizardspace."

"Oh."

"Do it now. The incantation's _signum dare_."

"_Signum dare_."

The box flashed red and the top panel vanished. It was completely black inside.

"Put something in it."

Harry picked up his book uncertainly.

"Is this all right?"

"Yes, it's fine."

He moved it towards the box and was shocked to see that as he pushed it in, it seemed to simply disappear, although blatantly not fitting into the hole yet meeting no resistance on its way.

"Now close it with _opero_."

"_Opero._"

The top panel materialised, and when Harry touched it found it to be quite solid.

"When you want to open it now, the incantation's _apero_. Not to be confused with _opero_."

"Wow. Thanks, Draco."

"You're welcome. Now I have a question."

"Yes?"

"What's all this about?" he asked, waving his arm out of the fire. The black band was snug around his wrist. Harry grinned.

"They used to be my father's. Lupin gave them to me for Christmas. Did you not get the instructions?"

"Yes, but I'm a bit confused as to why you've given it to me. I mean, wouldn't Dumbledore be the more intelligent option? I mean, if you're in trouble or something, he'll be the best one to get to you and help…"

"Draco, this isn't about saving my life! This is about having fun!"

"You mean we're going to use these to mess around?"

"Precisely! It'll be great!"

"You really shouldn't get so excited about things like this," Draco's head said, shaking in an amused fashion. "I swear it's bad for you."

"You'll get over it." Harry said airily. "Now go, or else Lucius will catch you. Go on, get going!"

Draco pouted and tilted his head expectantly. Sighing dramatically, Harry leaned down and kissed him, hands buried in the blond hair.

"Take care,"

"I will."

With a puff and a small flash, he was gone.

* * *

I still can't believe I'm writing het for Damned Blood. The freaky thing is, it's not going too badly!

Reviews extremely welcome and much appreciated. You took the time to read this, so... oh, I can't be bothered. You can remember from the previous chapter.

smokey

has serious problems with 'form' and 'from'


	22. Trouble in the Tower

I know it's been ages. I've been very busy with exams. Which didn't go very well. But anyway...

Fight Prejudice - Fight the Ban!

* * *

Harry was fast asleep when Ron arrived back the day before term started again. In fact, he didn't know he was there until the red-haired boy dragged him off his bed by the ankles, yelling at the top of his voice.

"Why did you send us all that stuff? Did you hex it? My family's been sick with worry thinking you're trying to curse us all or something! And that was really low, sending us all tuff of Harry's so we'd want to use it anyway! And where the hell did you get all his stuff? I thought Dumbledore –"

"Just shut up a minute!" Harry yelled. "None of that stuff is hexed or anything. Dumbledore sent you it all. He used my phoenix because his was busy! I had nothing to do with it!"

"Like I'm going to believe that." Ron snorted.

"Fine then," Harry dismissed. "Don't. But just don't go making a big fuss about it."

"What's that?" Ron said suddenly, pointing at the band on his wrist.

"This is none of your business. I'm going now. You don't have to dog me all the way down to the dungeons you know just to yell at me for doing something I didn't do."

"You're not going anywhere!"

"Try and stop me." Harry hissed, and made to stride past Ron. The other boy grabbed him as he passed, tripping him, and they fell awkwardly to the floor, Ron straddling Harry's chest. He grabbed Harry's wrists and forced them above his head.

"Tell me what you have to do with Harry!" he snarled.

"Let me go!" Harry cried, struggling beneath the lanky boy.

"Not a chance. Me and Hermione were doing some proper research over the holidays, but every time we got close to something, we'd either forget it, or just couldn't work it out. Mione thinks that there's something about you that someone else is keeping a secret. She thinks that you have a Secret Keeper. And according to her, it doesn't go against the charm for you to tell us who it is."

"Just fuck off, Ron," Harry said weakly. He didn't want to get angry. He wouldn't get angry. Because if he did, he knew that Ron could end up dead.

"Answer me damn it!"

"Do it, Antares!"

Harry turned his head the best he could whilst in the position he was in. Dean and Seamus were standing in the doorway, looking oddly feral in the waning light of the January evening. They stepped into the room and closed the door behind themselves, locking it and adding a silencing charm. Harry's eyes grew wide as they approached Ron and him.

Harry wriggled his hands, pretending as though he was trying to get free, but only moving them closer together so that the fingers on his left hand could get to the band on his wrist. As Seamus landed a solid kick to his chest, his fingers hit the stones and he pressed two, hoping they were the right ones.

They weren't. He wasn't taken straight to Draco, wherever he was. He groaned out loud as Dean kicked his stomach.

"Tell us, Antares! We're not stupid!"

Seamus planted his boot-clad foot on Harry's bare one and slowly leaned his weight onto it. Harry cried out as he felt the sharp pain of bones breaking. Dean got a well-aimed kick into his neck and he choked on a yelp.

"Expelliarmus!"

There was a flash of bright red light and Ron was flung from him. Harry curled up on himself, vaguely aware of Draco shrieking at the three other boys then casting a few spells and leaving him all alone once more with Ron and the others.

* * *

"Do you care to explain yourselves?" Lupin said frostily.

It seemed that Draco hadn't left him at all – instead he had immobilised the other three Gryffindors and gone straight to get Lupin. The Marauder had been furious when he had got up into the sixth form dormitory and found Harry curled up, bleeding slightly in the corner. He had hauled all five boys to his office immediately.

"Apparently not," Draco observed with a raised eyebrow when none of the Gryffindors offered a response. "Let me tell you what I know happened." He leant forward and rested his arms on his knees. "I was in my room, calmly unpacking after returning this evening, when suddenly there was a hot flash on my wrist. I looked down, and two of the stones on my bracelet were flashing. All at once sound came through, the sounds of someone being kicked and punched and having their feet broken. I could also hear James's noises of pain. So I used the band to go to him, and found these three dolts beating the crap out of him. I immobilised them and came and got you." He finished, leaning back. Lupin glared around.

"Do any of the rest of you have anything to say?"

"Yes," Seamus interjected angrily. "That's complete bullshit!"

"Five points for language." Lupin said sharply. "Why, what do you think happened?"

"Me, Ron and Dean were just going up to put our trunks in the dorm when Antares jumped Ron. He started asking what we knew about Harry Potter. He said that he wanted to know everything. We refused to tell him, so he used this weird magic on us. He had gold sparks all over him, and what we did was purely in self-defence."

If Dean and Ron were confused, they hid it well. Even Ron had caught on immediately. Their faces were set and glaring at Harry.

"That's not true!" he protested. "Professor, you _know_ that's not true! You have to believe me!"

"I do believe you, James." Lupin said calmly. "But do you agree with Mr. Malfoy's account with what happened? Do you wish to add anything?"

"Yeah, I do. When Ron got up to the dorm he started asking _me _about Harry Potter. He seems to think I know him. I wouldn't tell him, so he floored me. Dean and Seamus came in and they started beating me up. I managed to press two stones on my bracelet – I wasn't sure which ones though. Draco came and knocked them out."

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to believe James and Mr. Malfoy, boys,"Lupindecided with finality to his tone. "You three will all serve detention with Mr. Filch for a week, and fifty points from Gryffindor. Oh and another twenty for lying to a teacher."

"That's not fair!" Ron protested. Lupin regarded him mildly.

"I think it's perfectly fair. And I think you'll find that it's what I think that matters. Now go. And don't think I won't punish you further if you give me reason to." he warned. Draco and Harry started to stand. "You two wait. I'll be back in a minute."

Harry moved over to the sofa and Draco sat next to him, linking their hands together so that their scars touched and the magic flowed between them. It was stronger than before.

"Right, well, the first thing I want to say is well done, Harry." Lupin said as he re-entered the room. Harry blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"You must have had to concentrate so hard not to let your magic loose on those three when they attacked you. That's some show of control, and I congratulate you for it."

"Um… thanks."

"And also, I think it prudent that you do not allow any other students to know about this. Your magic, that is. It would probably frighten them all half to death. They don't need to know. In fact, I think it would do you both well to wear gloves at all times – especially you, Harry. I shall inform the teachers, so they know why you won't take them off. Is that understood?"

Harry and Draco nodded.

"And one more thing… Harry, are you comfortable living in Gryffindor Tower?"

"As opposed to…?"

"As opposed to your own room?"

Harry's jaw dropped and Draco reached up to close it.

"You're not a codfish, Harry," he admonished. Harry blushed as Lupin smiled at them.

"I… I don't know. Won't they just get at me even more if I do?"

"I shouldn't think so. It's not unheard of, either. Many students who are having trouble fitting into their new House are assigned separate rooms. Once they feel as though the problems are smoothed out, they rejoin their House."

"Yeah, but they're first years!" Harry protested. "I'm in the sixth year!"

"Is that a no, then?"

"Yes, it's a no." Harry answered firmly. "Besides, if I'm having trouble, I can always talk straight to Draco without leaving the Tower, or go to him if necessary."

"Indeed. Though I also advise that you do not go around advertising those bracelets. Someone will try and steal them, even if they can't actually get them off your wrists. Now, off with you, unless there's anything else you wish to tell me?"

"No, nothing," Harry said, just as Draco replied: "Yes, there is."

Harry scowled at him.

"No there's not."

"Well, maybe not for you, but there is for me," he said snidely, and turned to Lupin. "I overheard my father talking about a Death Eater meeting this month. He didn't say when, but it's definitely in January, and from the sounds of it, it's not going to be a pleasant one."

Lupin frowned slightly and turned to Harry.

"Have you felt anything through your scar?"

"No, nothing,"

"No matter. I shall inform the Headmaster. You may go. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Um, Professor Lupin?" asked Draco uncertainly.

"Yes?"

"Could you not call me 'Mr. Malfoy', please? That's my father's name. I mean, you don't call Harry 'Mr. Potter' or anything, so I just thought that maybe…" he trailed off and shook his head, moving off towards the door. "Forget it. Sorry, that was rude of me," he said softly. Harry grabbed his hand as he walked out of the door and looked over his shoulder at Lupin. The werewolf had a contemplative look on his face.

* * *

"You have done well, Wormtail."

"Thank you my Lord, you are truly gracious…"

"Don't grovel, Wormtail. It annoys me."

Wormtail fell silent as Voldemort moved over to the far side of the wall. In the half-light, he could see a man chained to the wall. He looked starved. Voldemort reached out and touched the man's arm. He groaned and his eyes cracked open slowly. Voldemort turned sharply to Wormtail.

"Come."

Like an obedient dog, Wormtail scurried over. Voldemort touched his shoulder with one long, white finger, and the world dissolved in a rush of swirling colours as he Apparated them to a different place. When they landed, a forest moved into view in front of them. the Death Eaters were standing in a circle around them, masked and unmoving. Voldemort stepped up to one and circled him.

"My dear Snape. How is Draco doing? Will he be ready to join into my service this summer?" he asked in a slightly hissing voice.

"I believe that he will be more than ready, my Lord. He now has the power of a God. He can heal any wound with just a simple touch. I think that he should very useful as one of your own, my Lord."

"Excellent. I am glad that at least one of you brings god news. But while Severus brings good news, my dear Wormtail has brought… _entertainment_." He said slowly, and indicated towards the Muggle in the centre of the circle, who was now shaking as he glanced around the robed men. He started when Voldemort began speaking again. "Now, what should we do first of all? After all, by the end he's going to be dead anyway. Ah yes, I know. Lucius?"

Malfoy stepped forward, wand raised, and incited a curse.

"Diffendo."

As the Muggle's screams pierced through Harry's hearing, the forest whooshed out of view and he burst awake.

Sitting up in Draco's bed, he glanced down at the sleeping Slytherin momentarily before climbing out of the warm bed and shrugging some robes on, walking over the cold stones to the door and leaving the dungeons.

"He told him about Draco, sir," Harry insisted.

"And as I have said, Harry, Professor Snape has to relay any information that he feels necessary. It is not in my power to stop him, nor my interests."

"But he didn't need to! Voldemort would never have known. Snape's an Occlumens, he could have kept it a secret! Why did he feel the need to tell him?" Harry protested angrily. Dumbledore was about to speak when the Floo burst to life and Snape walked out.

"Albus, I need to –" he broke off when he saw Harry sat in an armchair. In an instant, the Gryffindor was up off his feet and pulling the glove off his right hand, advancing on the Potions Master.

"Harry!" Dumbledore said sharply. Harry stopped and exhaled impatiently, glaring at Snape.

"You didn't have to tell him about Draco," he accused vehemently. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"So he was right. He said afterwards that he could feel another presence during part of the meeting, but couldn't pinpoint it exactly. It really did irritate him, you know. That Muggle wouldn't have had such a bad time if you hadn't been there. The Dark Lord was just frustrated."

"Don't try and lay the blame on me! Don't make me feel guilty!" Harry yelled. Sparks flew off his hand.

"You ought to watch your magic, Potter. It'll be the death of you some day. Or someone else, for that matter." He said softly.

"Bastard!" Harry yelled, flinging his hand up. There was an explosion behind Snape's head and as the Potions Master ducked, Harry reached out his hand to grab the man's neck. Only it never touched.

"Harry!"

Seething, Harry listened as Dumbledore approached. He couldn't turn though, as Dumbledore had frozen him in place. And it wasn't a very comfortable position. Snape sneered at him and stepped away. The Headmaster's head floated into view.

"You must learn to control your emotions, Harry. It would do no good for your powers to be revealed before it is necessary. Now, will you refrain from attacking Professor Snape if I remove the spell?"

Harry couldn't answer obviously, but satisfied himself with rolling his eyes in a manner he hoped Dumbledore understood. Suddenly his muscles relaxed and he stumbled forwards, catching himself on the mantelpiece.

"Now Harry, I must ask you to leave. I have some very important things to discuss with Professor Snape concerning the meeting."

"Why can't you discuss them in front of me?" Harry asked impudently, folding his arms over his chest. "I was there, you know."

"Harry." Dumbledore warned. Grumbling, Harry pulled his glove back on and stalked over to the door, brushing past Snape as he did. He as pleased to see that the Potions Master shied away slightly.

* * *

Meh... I can't quite remember who it was, but somebody suggested that I have the Gryffindors charm his bed to eat him... or something like that... I took that idea and kind of changed it into them beating him up. Thanks for the idea... whoever it was...

I need reviews. PLEASE! Tell me what you think, even if you've reviewed every chapter so far coughJimcough. It helps me to know if I'm going the right way.

Regards,

smokey

BORIS JOHNSON FOR KING!

Why yes, I am Conservative...


	23. Slytherin vs Ravenclaw

I know, this was a quick update compared to what I've been doing recently, but hey. I got sudden inspiration. So much, in fact, that I wrote a whole chapter of RtG in one night! But it hasn't been beta'ed yet, so don't get your hopes up.

And don't worry... James' foot isn't broken anymore... I can't believe I forgot that, thank you so much!

* * *

"Are you ready?" Harry asked as he watched Draco strap on his Quidditch boots. The Slytherin raised an eyebrow, pausing.

"When am I not?"

"When you've just woken up?" Harry suggested innocently. Draco gave him a wry smile and bent over his boots again. Harry picked up his broom and looked it over.

"Don't you try and sabotage it before my match," Draco accused without looking up.

"I'm not!" Harry protested. "I was just wondering if you wanted to use my broom."

"What's wrong with mine?"

"Well nothing. It's just that mine's the latest Firebolt model, and probably quite a bit better than this old Nimbus."

"I seem to remember that when I first got that, you were still riding an old Nimbus 2000, and continued to use it until third year. So don't lecture me on brooms."

"Come on, Draco, you know you want to… the Firebolt 42… Moon won't shut up for the whole match. You'll be the star of the pitch…"

Draco finished with his boots and stood up suddenly. Harry stepped back as his boyfriend folded his arms crossly.

"You just love to torment me, don't you?" he asked irritably. Harry grinned.

"Love it almost as much as you."

"Go get it then," he sighed in a defeated manner and waved his hand as a dismissal.

Harry kissed him on the cheek and hurried up to the Tower. His foot was still slightly sore from where Seamus had broken it, but Pomfrey's Skele-Gro had, of course, sorted it in a jiffy - even if he had retched whilst taking the potion. A few people gave him suspicious looks as he walked through the common room with his Firebolt clutched in his gloved hand.

"Where do you think you're going, Antares?" Ron snarled as he passed him. Harry sighed and paused before the portrait hole.

"To fly around the pitch during the match and distract everyone with my immense sex appeal, thus causing Slytherin to win as their Seeker appears completely immune to my sex appeal. Why do you ask?" he said sarcastically. For a moment Ron looked as though he might believe him, but then his face clouded over.

"What are you really doing?"

"It's not really any of your business, but if you must know, I'm lending my broom to Draco so that the match is in the bag. Happy now?"

"That's not allowed!" Ron protested. "Ravenclaw won't stand a chance!"

"I think you'll find that there's nothing at all in the rules that says you can't borrow someone else's broom. It's just not normally one for Gryffindors to help Slytherins, is it? Now, close you mouth or a talent scout will grab you for a part in a musical about fish."

Harry slammed the Fat Lady shut behind him. She squawked in annoyance.

"Sorry," he sighed, sitting down on the floor beside her. "It's just that all the Gryffindors seem to hate me. Except maybe Neville, and the younger ones."

"I'm sure it's just a phase. They'll get over it," she said kindly.

"I don't think so," Harry said sadly. He stood up and walked down to the dungeons. Draco was emerging in his Quidditch robes, looked flustered.

"I was wondering where you got to," he said, taking the broom off Harry. "You were taking ages."

"I had a little argument with Ron,"

"That Weasley ought to be locked up. He's a menace."

"It doesn't matter. I'll get over it."

"Good."

Draco took Harry's hand and he felt a slight surge of magic sifting beneath the material of their gloves, trying to get out and join, but not able. So instead it tickled the palms of their hands. They walked out of the Entrance Hall and out across the grounds. Few people gave them a second glance – it was by now common knowledge that they were together.

"Do you think you can win?" Harry asked as they strode across the grass. Draco snorted.

"Of course. We can beat any team now. The Gryffindors, frankly, are crap now they don't have you. The Weasley female is far from the same league."

"Are you complimenting my Seeking skills?"

"Don't act as though I've never said anything nice about you in my life," Draco replied huffily. "I do it all the time."

"Yes, you do," Harry agreed. "Especially when we're in bed."

"Don't say that so loud!" Draco hissed, scanning the surrounding people to see if they had heard. Harry grinned mischievously, and received a punch to his shoulder for his efforts.

"Let's change the subject then." He suggested brightly.

"It's too early for you to be so energetic." Draco grumbled.

"You've never complained before." Harry replied innocently. Draco choked.

"Stop doing that!"

"Now I don't often hear you saying that…"

Harry shut up rather quickly as Draco's hand covered his mouth, the Slytherin glancing around wildly, and then when satisfied that nobody was giving them funny looks, turned on Harry with a hiss.

"If you don't stop twisting every last thing I say, I'll take my bracelet off. Then you'll be stuck as how to get down to the dungeons on a night."

In reply, Harry stuck his tongue out and licked Draco's palm. With a growl, Draco removed his hand and replaced it with his lips. Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Draco, letting out a small whimper of annoyance when his boyfriend pulled away.

"Now stop it!" he whispered. Harry bit his lip to stop himself replying and nodded mutely. Draco took Harry's hand again and they carried on down to the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

"And they're off!"

Harry wrapped his Cloak around himself and silently climbed the stairs up to the teacher's stands. Higher than the rest of them, it would be a perfect place to watch Draco. After all, he didn't really want to sit with the Gryffindors, and besides, everyone would be confused if he was cheering the Slytherins on – even if he was shagging one of them. Gryffindors supporting Slytherin just didn't happen,

Harry emerged onto the stands as Moon finished her description of the Ravenclaw team. He caught sight of Cho's face and had to say that it was amusing. She looked ready to kill the Hufflepuff. The Slytherins took the opportunity to score whilst the Ravenclaws glared at Moon.

After the incident in Dumbledore's office, they had deduced that someone in the school had Cho under Imperio. Although Snape had been particularly eager to have her put on trial, Dumbledore had decided that she had been acting against her will and no punishment was inflicted.

"Ten points to Slytherin!" Moon announced over the megaphone. Harry grinned and scanned the pitch. Draco was doing the same, fifty feet up in the air. Cho had recovered from her mood and was tailing the Slytherin relentlessly. Suddenly, Harry spotted a flash of gold at the Ravenclaw end. With a quick calculation, he realised that if Draco caught it now, they'd still be behind – Ravenclaw had won the matches against Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Slytherin needed to be at least fifty points up. He pressed the sapphire and ruby on his bracelet. He bent his head and whispered into it.

"The Snitch is at the Ravenclaw goalposts. Draw her away."

Up in the air, Draco had paused and raised his hand to his face in the pretence of scratching his hair. He nodded, something that nobody else would have understood, and suddenly shot off towards the Forest. Cho followed as fast as she could. Harry smiled to himself.

"Did you hear that?"

Harry froze as Snape turned slowly to stare at him. Or at least, the place where he was standing. Sinistra turned too.

"Hear what?"

"It sounded like something hissing something. But nobody's there. Pity."

"Why is it a pity?"

"Because students aren't allowed up here. If one were to be caught, he would probably get a detention there and then. That would have been enjoyable to administer." Snape sneered. Harry swallowed. Obviously Snape knew he was there. So why wasn't he doing anything?

"Another ten points to Slytherin!"

Harry edged away from the Potions Master and moved to the side of the stands where he could see better. Draco and Cho still hadn't reappeared from the Forest.

"The Slytherins have to win by at least two hundred points if they want to win when they go up against Gryffindor later on. But by how Gryffindor have been playing lately, I don't think they should have too much trouble – Weasley seems to have messed up when choosing people to fill positions this year. Or is it just that Gryffindor haven't got all that much to offer? From what I've been told, James Antares had potential, but Weasley took him off the team. What was the boy thinking?"

Harry bit his lip to stop himself sniggering. He could see Ron's red hair from across the Quidditch pitch and from what he could see, he looked furious. Wrapping his Cloak more tightly around himself, he leaned over the stands and peered out towards the Forest. Squinting, he saw a stream of black shoot into the Forest through the trees.

"FOUL!"

Harry snapped his head back to watch the game. Apparently Belcher had grabbed a Ravenclaw Chaser's broom to prevent him from scoring. Terry Boot took the penalty – and missed. The Quaffle slipped down and the Slytherin Chasers put it neatly through a hoop at the other end.

"Slytherin are on forty points to nil – they only need one more goal, then if Malfoy gets the Snitch they've got a chance against Gryffindor!"

Harry prayed that they would hurry up so Draco would come out of the Forest. He pressed the stones again.

"Draco, come out. You'll be needed in a minute. Slytherin only need one more goal, then you're on." He whispered. He waited for a response, but got none. Then suddenly a crackling came through, and a scream. Then it stopped.

For a split second, Harry considered going to Draco via the bracelet. But then sense demolished the idea, as he reasoned that he could end up coming through to the place where Draco had been a second ago and end up falling down a hole. Merlin knows what could happen in the Forest.

"Slytherin score!"

Harry was about to alert Dumbledore of Draco's absence when out of the Forest came a rather fast green and silver blur followed by a stream of black. But no – it wasn't a stream of black, it was a flock of crows, hell-bent on getting to Malfoy. The Seeker shot in all manner of dangerous and almost impossible moves, streaking around, in, and through the other teams. The spectators screamed when the realised what was happening. Dumbledore was on his feet in an instant.

At every twist and turn Draco took, the moved with equal ferocity and speed. It looked as though he was getting desperate. Harry pressed the stones again, this time not caring who heard him.

"Use my magic!" he yelled, and then pressed all three together.

He felt as though his body had been drained; he felt completely empty and strangely light. Before he blacked out, he saw Draco raise his hand, then a blinding light, then darkness.

* * *

At this point, I run out of things to say... apart from the fact that I now hate touching electrical appliances as I get an electric shock every time I do. I blame Newlands!

Reviews very welcome and much appreciated.

Your fees, and I leave you...

smokey

has a new friend - Horus!


	24. Gloves Off

**WARNING**: I am hyper. And singing Monty Python at the top of my voice. _This may affect the writing style of the chapter_...

I am very sorry if any Irish people reading this get offended by a certain line, it's a quote from Blackadder, and it's just the way Malfoy is.

* * *

"That was really stupid, do you know that?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"That's not the point! You could have killed yourself!"

"I'll get over it."

"But what if someone realised it was you!"

"They all thought it was Dumbledore. So that's beside the point."

"You're impossible."

"But you love me anyway."

"Yes, I do." Draco said softly. Harry stopped walking. "That's why I was worried."

With a sigh, Harry pulled Draco into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry. But I think I was more worried about you at the time."

Draco chuckled into his neck.

"Did I look like I needed help?"

"Yes, you certainly did."

"I was doing just fine."

"Yeah, wonderfully. But you still won, so that doesn't matter."

"I think that shocked people."

"I'm surprised the Snitch went into the Forest."

"Me too. Do you realise that the game went on for five minutes after it was meant to end?"

"Don't tell anyone else that, or they'll not count the last few goals."

"I feel sorry for Chang."

"I hope you're kidding."

"She didn't stand a chance. It was only my magic that saved her."

"Congratulations, you get to be a hero for once."

"Yeah, but so are you, so it still doesn't count."

Harry pulled away from Draco, resting his hands on the Slytherin's hips.

"Of course it counts." He said softly, and kissed him softly. "I think it counts."

Draco laid his head on Harry's shoulder and the Gryffindor leaned back against the corridor wall. They stayed like that for a while, just listening to each other breathe, ignoring the world around them and the people who stared as they walked past. After a while, Draco sighed heavily and unfolded himself from Harry's arms.

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"I don't know. Do you have Muggle Studies tomorrow?"

"Yes, second thing. Why?"

"Just wondering. Am I welcome to stay the night in your room?"

"Well considering you've slept there unnoticed since we got back, I think I might allow it. What time are you going to come down?"

Harry shrugged.

"About eleven. Is that all right?"

"Just make sure they don't notice."

Harry nodded and kissed him passionately before they parted ways and Harry retired to the Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

"Good afternoon class." Lupin said jovially as he strode into the room. The students stopped messing around and sat down, getting out their wands in anticipation. "Today we're going to look at a Dark Creature." He flicked his wand and the cage he had dragged into the classroom was revealed. Inside was something that looked like a cross between a cat and a bird. It had a pair of skeletal, leathery wings sprouting from its shoulder blades and a beak instead of a mouth. Its fur was sleek and black.

"This is a Saccharin. Does it look familiar to any of you?"

Harry stuck up his hand.

"Yes, James?"

"It's like a Thestral."

"Exactly. Just out of interest, those of you who can see Thestrals, raise your hands." A few people raised their hands. Lupin made a note and continued. "A Saccharin does look similar to Thestrals, but they're not actually that alike in terms of what they do. Thestrals can only be seen by people who have seen death. Anybody can see a Saccharin. Excluding Muggles, of course. Now, does anyone know exactly what a Saccharin does? Hermione?"

"If they can get close enough to you, they send out a sort of Dark radar that pulls you closer to them, sort of subconciously, like you're in a trance. Then when you're close enough, they bite you and suck out all of your blood."

A few people in the room paled.

"Exactly. So they're nasty things. Five points to Gryffindor. Now the key to stopping Saccharins is to actually get rid of their wings. I know it sounds odd," he admitted as the class gave him confused looks, "but a Saccharin's magic is contained in its wings. Get rid of them and it's about as dangerous as a cat."

"How do we get rid of the wings though?" Ron interrupted. "It's hardly going to let us close enough to chop them off, is it?"

"I'm sure if you waited, he would tell us." Draco snapped. "He's hardly unlikely to tell us how vicious they are then not say how to defend ourselves, is he? Don't be so impatient."

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy, but kindly detain from bashing other students." Lupin admonished, a glint in his eye. "But yes, onto the incantation. Repeat after me. _Abscidus_."

"_Abscidus_." The class chorused.

"Good. Now, unfortunately I can't really let you all have a go on this one, but I will let you all practise on a shape-shifter. If you'd like to gather your belongings and move to the front of the room, please."

Relatively curious, Harry packed his stuff up and slung his bag over his shoulder, standing next to Draco at the front of the class. Once everybody had moved, Lupin waved his wand and the desks and chairs rearranged themselves to be lined up against the walls, creating a clear space in the middle of the floor. Lupin strode over to a chest of drawers and pulled out a jar with swirling black smoke inside. He took the lid off and it poured out like a liquid, hanging suspended in the air. Lupin poked it with his wand and said "Saccharin!"

It fell to the floor with a growl and spat at the class.

"Form a line, and go up in turn to chop its wings off. Remember the incantation, _Abscidus_. Off you go, first one."

Nott stumbled forward. The Saccharin hissed and moved forwards. It was about to pounce when Nott raised his wand.

"_Abscidus_!" he stuttered. The Saccharin screamed as its wings were severed at the bases and fell off, blood seeping out onto the floor.

"Excellent!" Lupin exclaimed. He pointed his wand at the yowling Saccharin. "Referre!"

The wings zipped back onto the Saccharin, joining seamlessly. The creature snarled at Draco. He raised his wand almost lazily.

"_Abscidus._"

"Referre!"

Unnoticed by anyone, Harry slipped off his glove as he waited for Zabini to dismember the creature. As soon as the wings were gone, Lupin reattached them, and Harry stepped forwards, wand in hand, scar tingling. He built up the magic, and when his kidneys went warm spoke.

"_Abscidus_!"

Harry wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting, but it wasn't for the wings to be shredded by a hundred invisible knives then fall to the floor in tatters. He blinked at the whimpering Saccharin, then looked at Lupin.

"Sorry," he said meekly. Lupin glared at him, then at his hand, then back at his face.

"I think that's enough practical work for one day." He said sternly, and with a wave of his wand the Saccharin disappeared and the smoke returned to the jar. He put the desks back as they were originally and ordered the students to sit back down.

"Quills out."

* * *

"I'm bored." Harry complained and sat down irritably on a snow-covered rock.

"You sound like a petulant child."

"Hello? I still am a child."

"Whereas I, on the other hand, am an adult," Draco said pompously, puffing his chest out in a way reminiscent of Percy Weasley with his Head Boy badge.

"Shut up." Harry scowled. Suddenly he was struck with an idea. "I know! Let's make snow angels!"

Draco watched disdainfully as he leapt up from the rock and threw himself onto the floor, arms and legs going madly in order to produce an angel. He stood up and admired his work.

"How immature." Draco sniffed, and was caught in the face by a particularly wet snowball. Sighed in a resigned way, he wiped the snow from his cheeks with a delicate sleeve and raised an eyebrow at Harry, who already had the next one prepared and was ready to take flight.

"You know you want to." The Gryffindor goaded. With ridiculous melodramatics and an impeccable flourish, Draco whipped his glove off. Harry glanced around. Nobody was watching. He pulled his own glove off.

"You know we'll get bollocked if someone catches us with our gloves off." Draco remarked as he motioned for a snowball to form, the wetness doing his bidding without him touching it.

"Of course. The risk just makes it more fun."

All of a sudden snowballs were flying in every direction as they both began their attacks, each being hit every time by the magic-enhanced snowballs. Harry dodged every which way as they came fast and thick, snow dripping off his clothes as he returned fire on the Slytherin. Leaping behind a tree on the edge of the Forest, he focused his magic to build a battalion of snowballs then leaped out form behind the tee to fire at least twenty at once. Draco emitted a rather feminine squeak as he was hit, and was about to retaliate when they heard footsteps and laughter. Draco hurried over to Harry and they both hid behind the tree, out of breath and bright red in the face. Harry pulled his glove back on as Ron and Seamus rounded the corner. They sat down on the rocks and began chatting.

Harry leaned on Draco and whispered in his ear.

"Let's get them."

Draco nodded. Both of them began making snowballs, as many as they possibly could, placing them in mounds around them whilst working as silently as possible. After a good five minutes of snowball-making, Draco decided that they had enough, and pulled out his wand, delving in Harry's own pockets for his.

"On the count of three. One. Two."

Harry raised his wand, the spell on the tip of his tongue.

"Three."

With two simultaneous swish and flicks, the ammunition flew up through the air and hurtled towards the Gryffindors. Harry scrambled away as the screams and yells echoed behind them.

"Antares!"

Harry stopped and turned.

"How did you guess?" he asked wickedly. Draco was still hiding in the Forest.

"You'll pay for that!" Seamus snarled. He quickly formed a snowball and was about to throw it when another horde of them came storming out of the Forest. Laughing at the astonished looks on their faces, Draco emerged from the Forest.

"You!" Ron fumed, trying, and failing, to keep his dignity intact whilst spitting snow out of his mouth.

"Yes, me. Congratulations on that stunning observation, Weasel. But what have we here? A Weasel, and… an Irish Bastard?"

Harry tackled Draco to the ground as a nasty hex flew overhead.

"Damn you Malfoy, get up and fight!" Seamus roared.

"I would if James would get off me," Draco said pointedly. Harry climbed off him and deflected a hex as it cracked through the air. Draco drew his wand and sent a fast Jelly-Legs at Seamus. It hit and Ron shot back Tarantellegra. Harry blocked it and returned it with Rictumsempra. The pattern continued for a while before Seamus and Ron were just too tired to carry on. Ron squinted up from where he was sat on the floor in confusion.

"I don't get it." He panted. "You two aren't tired at all, are you?"

Harry shook his head.

"But perhaps now you'll think twice before duelling with someone without thinking first." He replied simply, and motioned for Draco. The Slytherin jogged over to him and slipped his hand inside Harry's. Together they walked up across the grounds to the castle.

"I'm still bored."

"You're also soaking wet. You need to have a bath."

"That doesn't sound boring."

"Mr Malfoy!"

Harry and Draco turned as Snape swept out of the Entrance Hall and onto the snowy ground. He looked rather annoyed, and Harry had a nasty feeling that it was his fault.

"Sir?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for unnecessary show of affection," the Potions Master said absently. Harry tugged his hand from Draco's hold. "Professor Dumbledore and I were talking when the school wards alarm went off. It detected enormous amounts of power in use over the grounds. Naturally, we scanned the area and couldn't find anything. Just a few bunches of small students indulging in petty fights using balls of snow. Completely bewildered, we retired to the Headmaster's study to ponder over this interesting matter. Soon we were interrupted by Lupin. He told us that Weasley and Finnigan had decided it would be amusing to challenge you both to a duel. It was then that realisation hit me with all the elegance of brick.

"Which other students would be able to use massive amounts of power without knowing it? Merlin, which other students even _had_ that type of magic at their call? None. None, save you two. We are going to the Headmaster with this. Do keep up."

Harry started as Snape suddenly stopped talking and whirled around, disappearing back up to the castle in a swirl of black robes. Draco grabbed Harry's hand and yanked him forward, rubbing the feeling back into his hands at the same time. As they ascended the large staircase in the Entrance Hall, Snape made Harry jump again.

"Another five points. Do it again and it will be twenty."

With a sharp glare at Draco, Harry once again jerked his hand away and this time stuffed both deep inside his pockets. Draco offered him an apologetic smile and quickened his pace to keep up with the teacher.

"Do you know what those crows that attacked me during Quidditch were yet sir?" he asked as he drew level with the sneering man, who did just that.

"I do believe that the Headmaster is going to inform you of all matters you need to know. To ask me is fruitless, as you will receive no answers. Now be quiet."

He bent down beside the gargoyle and, with a suspicious look at Harry, whispered the password in such a faint voice that Harry suspected the gargoyle would have had trouble hearing it. Nevertheless, the stone guardian leaped aside and Snape stepped onto the revolving staircase, followed by Harry and Draco.

"Ah, Harry, Mr. Malfoy. Glad you could join me. Severus, that will be all."

"But Headmaster, if you –"

"Thank you Severus." Dumbledore repeated in a slightly louder voice. Grumbling irritably, Snape glared at the two boys once more before billowing from the room. Harry bit his lip and turned to Dumbledore, who was smiling in an amused fashion.

"Professor Snape does so like to be kept adrift of the current affairs. Now boys, please, both of you, take a seat." He waved his hand and two squashy armchairs materialised before him. They sat down nervously, well aware that they were dripping snow al over the floor.

"Sorry about the mess." Harry apologised lamely. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Not at all, my boy. Boring people have neat homes. Sherbet lemon?"

Harry took one of the proffered sweets but noticed with a smile that Draco turned his nose up at the thought of such common snacks.

"I have a few rather important matters to discuss the two of you, if it wouldn't be too much bother. The first is linked to what has happened over the past week or so regarding your substantial increase of magic. For example, you, Harry seem to have unleashed your inhuman powers more often than Mr. Malfoy. Just before Christmas, you nearly blasted one of Professor Snape's more heavily warded doors from its hinges. That alone is an impressive feat. Then during Defence Against the Dark Arts, you attempted a spell using both wand and god powers. I doubt you foresaw the effects. All aside, I think it is apparent that an alarm ought to be placed over both of you."

"I don't understand." Harry said with a confused glance at Draco, who just looked bored.

"It's actually quite simple. I will simply have the alarm in effect for when you are not in lessons or any extra-curricular activities. It will let us know when you use magic. Don't worry," he sai at Draco's silently protesting frown. "most things can be done without magic. You'd be surprised. And for those that need magic, I'm sure that a friend would do it for you, or perhaps a teacher, if it is necessary.

"This means, you understand, that you may only use magic out of lessons in dire circumstances or if I give permission. Should you use magic, the alarms will go off and a teacher will get to you straight away. I should think that the teacher would be rather annoyed were he or she to arrive only to find that one of you had simply applied a freshening charm to his robes, don't you agree? Especially if that teacher were Professor Snape."

"Of course, sir," Draco said politely. Harry grimaced.

"This is going to be hard, you know. We'll forget within a day."

"I thought that might be the case." Dumbledore said, eyes sparkling. "So I took the liberty of having these two necklaces imbued with a special charm that Professor Flitwick and I added to the pendants. I think you'll find that they prevent you using magic, unless you purposefully push past the barriers. That way, if you need to, your magic is perfectly accessible." He fished two silver chains from his robes.

"Does it matter which one we have?" Harry asked, taking one from the old man's hands. Draco took the other and inspected it rather more closely than necessary.

"Not at all, but if you wish, I can easily make it more obvious to whom either chain belongs," he took out his wand and tapped each necklace. In the centre of Draco's, a minuscule silver serpent formed out of molten metal. With Harry's, the chain turned gold and a tiny lion grew out of excess metal. Harry bit his lip at the irony and slung it over his head.

Immediately he felt as though something within his body was being squeezed. Something had been cut off, repressed against its will and it left an empty, dark void in him that felt disturbingly familiar.

"This is what it felt like when I gave Draco my magic." He said bluntly. Dumbledore regarded him slowly.

"Yes, it probably is. But now you are wearing the necklaces, Only I can remove them. The alarms are in place, so no more magic can be used until lessons start tomorrow. Not even a simple Summoning charm. Unless you want Professor Snape to invade your privacy, of course. Go now, and get some rest. As with everything else, I think it wise for you to keep this a secret also. Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight, Draco."

Draco blinked in surprise as Dumbledore addressed him by his given name, but was quickly snapped out of his shock by Harry's insistent hand in his, pulling him towards the door. He stood and followed contemplatively through the oak door.

"Oh and Draco?" Dumbledore called. Draco stuck his head back around the door and glanced at the Headmaster, the twinkle back with full force.

"I suggest you put everything you will need for the night within easy reach."

Flushing wonderfully and choking back his surprise, Draco nodded and closed the door behind him. Harry gave him a questioning look as the staircase moved downwards towards the corridor.

"What did he say?" Harry asked, entwining Draco's long fingers with his own. Draco gazed out down the corridor, still shocked.

"That he doesn't care."

Ignoring Harry's befuddled whine, he dragged his boyfriend down to the dungeons to make sure he was completely and utterly debauched before lessons the next morning. Well, that was his excuse. In truth it was to get a certain image out of his head.

The image of Albus Dumbledore looking at him with the twinkle he reserved for Harry.

* * *

Sob I notice that someone has taken this fic off their alert list... how depressing... oh well.

Squee! Look out, Running the Gauntlet is almost ready to be updated...

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

smokey

is high on caffeine and shaking like hell.


	25. Almost, At Times, The Fool

Yeah, it's been ages. I'm sorry.

Interestingly, I attempted to give up coffee for Lent. Made it nearly a month but then a particularly stressful week made me take up the mug once more. Drama, argh. I mean... 8 hour rehearsal on Saturday, Monday and Tuesday then the actual productions on Thursday and Friday. I was tired by the end of it.

I won't be updating any time this week, unfortunately, because I'm being dragged off on holiday on a narrowboat down on the Avon Ring... for pretty much the whole of next week... pity me, I beg you!

**Cathrin Malfoy** - I'm not stopping! I was just pausing!

**Dragenphly** -please make up your mind whether you hate them all or not. It's getting rather confusing for me.

**Jacobim**... meh. I'll squee atyou and hope you're satisfied.

It's a small world, people...

* * *

"Come on!" Lupin called as he led the class across the grass. "We'll never get done if you lag like this! Get a move on!"

"It's last lesson! Nobody's awake!" Ron complained as he trudged along beside Hermione, who yawned widely.

"This is very important, Ron. It'll give you the best idea of how well you're doing. Mocks are vital part of the NEWT course. Now if you don't hurry up we won't get finished. Honestly, get moving!"

Harry stifled a yawn to spite Ron and staggered down the path to Hagrid's hut. The giant lumbered out of the Forest as they approached.

"Afternoon, Professor Lupin!" he greeted jovially. "Just settin' up the –"

"Yes thank you Hagrid." Lupin said loudly. He turned to the tired class, beaming. "Right. A practical not unlike an obstacle course. You did something similar to this at the end of third year, but obviously the creatures and curses in this one are much more vicious and wider spread. This time, I'll put you in pairs and you'll be given a card. This card will show you the route you have to take across the grounds. You'll come across various obstacles on your way. If you both get to the end unscathed, you get more marks than if I have to rescue you halfway through. Send up red sparks if you need help."

"Do we choose our own pairs, Professor?" Terry Boot asked. Lupin smiled at him.

"No. I've paired you all with opposite sexes, to make your chances as high as possible."

"What chances?"

"Of making it to the end, of course. Now, let's see… here we go!" he produced a piece of parchment with a flourish and began reading off names. "Terry Boot and Ellie Moon. Draco Malfoy and Hannah Abbott. Blaise Zabini and Lisa Turpin. James Antares and Hermione Granger. Ron Weasley and Padma Patil."

Harry gave Draco a desperate look, which was returned with a shrug as Draco moved over to a terrified-looking Hannah. Scowling at the Slytherin, Harry drew his wand and stood next to Hermione, who looked as pleased as he was. Then again, at least he didn't have to partner the person he had taken to the Yule Ball, unlike Ron. Served the git right.

"James?"

He was snapped out his reverie by Lupin waving a card in front of his face. He took it and peered at the line snaking across it.

"We start by Hagrid's hut and follow the yellow line to the greenhouses, then take the blue line up to the edge of the Forest."

"I can read, you know," Hermione snapped, snatching the card from him. He growled and restrained from hexing her.

"Start as soon as you're ready." Lupin called as he handed the rest of the cards out. Hermione flashed a glare at him.

"I want to get a good mark for this. If you mess up, I'll make your life hell," she snarled, and marched over to Hagrid's hut, peering at the yellow lines and began the course.

Draco watched with some amusement as Granger ordered Harry around, half the time getting it wrong and being saved at the last minute by Harry, only to blame him for not seeing it before. He grinned to himself and glanced at Hannah. She was staring at him, wide-eyed.

"I won't bite," he said acidly, and stalked over to the greenhouses to begin the course. Following the green line towards the Forest edge, he checked Hannah as she scuttled along behind him. "Keep your eyes open. The spell or creature could come from any direction." He warned, and she whipped her head around as a response. Rolling his eyes, he walked along the green line. A sudden movement to his left made him stop dead. Holding a hand out to still Hannah, he cast an Invisibility spell on the two of them and peered into the Forest.

With unexpected force, a Saccharin came bounding out, heading straight for them. Draco raised his wand as it hurtled towards them.

"Abscindo."

It yowled in pain as its wings were sliced off. Draco took down the Invisibility spell and grabbed Hannah, pulling her along to line. He stopped in his tracks as a piercing scream ripped through the air.

Harry yelped as a sharp pain lanced through his stomach, knocking him to the ground. Winded, he stared up at the clouds as he tried to get his breath back and block out the pain in his mid-section. Suddenly Hermione's face swam into view.

"James!"

"I'm fine, just sort out the curse," he said weakly, taking deep breaths. When she didn't do anything, he moved his hands down to his stomach, and was puzzled to find that his stomach was wet and sticky. Raising his hands to his eyes to see what the liquid was, he choked as the blood-stained digits dripped onto his face. Struggling to sit up, he saw Lupin running towards him, horror obvious on his face. With a whimper, he wrapped his hands around the hilt of the knife sticking out of his stomach and yanked it out sharply. The pain washed over him and he lost consciousness.

"Draco! Get over here!"

Draco sprinted over to where Harry was lying on the floor, having just ripped a knife from his gut and succeeded in spraying everyone nearby with blood. Lupin was knelt beside him and casting various spells, looking frantic.

"Is this not an obstacle?" Draco asked, and he shook his head violently.

"Nothing of the sort. It looks like something else, and no healing spells are getting through. Nothing's working. He'll be dead before we get him to Madame Pomfrey." He suddenly stopped waving his wand and stared into Draco's eyes. The Slytherin was shocked by the desperation he could see there.

"You'll have to stun the others." Draco said quietly, taking off his gloves and folding his hands over Harry's stomach. Lupin nodded. As he focused on the magic, he saw a flash of red light as Lupin knocked out the other students. With a forceful push he shoved Life back into Harry, expelling the hexes and curses riddled on the knife and transferred into Harry's flesh, burning white magic through his body until it was clean and healed. Harry jerked on the floor, rising up onto his shoulder blades and gasping for breath with a hacking cough.

"Harry?" Draco asked anxiously. Deep blue eyes flashed open.

"What happened?"

"We need to go up to Dumbledore. I'll explain to him at the same time. Can you stand?"

Harry shook his head and covered his eyes with his hands.

"I don't feel particularly well."

"Hardly surprising," Draco replied wryly, and slid one under Harry's knees, the other under his shoulders. "Work with me."

Harry shifted as Draco lifted him and clung to his boyfriend as they began the trip back up to school, passing the prone bodies of their classmates, Lupin following in their wake.

* * *

"Why is it always me?"

"It's not actually. It's me this time."

"Then why did I get stabbed?"

"Because the knife was charmed to attack the person with the strongest magic. They didn't know at that point that you had extra powers, too. They thought it was just me. Were you not listening when Dumbledore explained?"

"I was busy falling asleep."

"Why does that not surprise me?"

"And I missed dinner."

"So?"

"That's a bad thing."

"Is all you do in life eat and sleep?"

"Yes. Now, if you would stop talking, I might be able to indulge in the latter of those small luxuries, since we can't use spells to induce fatigue any more."

Draco sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around Harry as the Gryffindor shifted across his pillow to bury his head into Draco's chest under the sheets. The Slytherin closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Harry's hair, glad that he had turned the lights out before retiring to bed.

* * *

"Part of the NEWT course involves learning wandless and non-verbal magic. You shall be taught an element of this in each lesson, bar Potions, but not on any substantial level – just to help defend yourselves should the need arise. We're going to start non-verbal spells now, and begin with something simple – I think that Accio would be suitable." Flitwick said from his stack of books two weeks later. Draco yawned widely and stretched. Harry poked him in the ribs as they were exposed.

"Now, non-verbal magic requires a relative amount of concentration and mind power. Therefore, not everyone in this class will manage to produce non-verbal spells. So, everyone stand up and go to the far side of the room, wands out."

Harry stood stiffly, his spine cracking in aproximately thirteen different places,and walked slowly over to the far side of the room, where Hermione looked ready to burst with excitement. Draco yawned again.

"Wand out, and Accio a cushion. In silence."

Harry took his wand out and pointed it at the stacks of cushions on the opposite wall, not thinking of anything at all. Because, of course, he could already perform non-verbal magic. He glanced at the rest of the class. A few had their mouths clamped shut tightly to refrain from cheating and whispering the spell, which a couple had done. Ron was going purple with the effort, and so far all Hermione had managed was for a cushion to crawl about a foot along the wooden floor before it stopped in defeat.

Typically though, after ten minutes she managed to get it soaring towards her. Harry formed the spell in his mind.

_Accio cushion_.

A single cushion shot through the air and landed neatly in his outstretched left hand. He spared a glance at Hermione, who was giving him her most evil look, and smiled innocently at her. Another cushion flew towards them to Draco. Ron went green.

"Oh, we really shouldn't be amused by stuff like that." Harry said through under his breath as he waved at Ron.

"But they only exist for our amusement, so it's fine." Draco replied equally quietly, and Banished his cushion back over to the far wall. Harry was about to copy him, when his creative streak made an appearance and persuaded him instead to make it hit Hermione on the ever-bushy head. Feigning innocence, he tried to school his features in a look of fierce concentration as he glared at the unmoving cushions. It was at that point that Flitwick seemed to become aware of the hissing that was gradually getting louder as the students got more impatient and began whispering the incantation.

"Right then, line up and we'll see how each of you has done, shall we?" he said, rubbing his hands together. He sent the few cushions that had made it to their side of the room back to the stacks and ushered them into an orderly queue. Zabini was at the front. "Go on then, let's see what you can do."

Zabini struck a rather amusing pose and seemed to be concentrating a bit too hard on the stubborn cushions. One of them fell from the top of a pile, but Harry decided it probably just gravity.

Hermione, of course, managed to get it come floating over gently – more of a Wingardium Leviosa than Accio, but Flitwick still applauded anyway. Of course, he was simply dumbstruck when Draco performed a perfect Accio and Banished it with equal adeptness.

"Mr. Antares?"

Playing out the random mood he had found himself in at the beginning of the day, Harry formed a completely different charm in his mind.

Every last cushion in the room leapt into the air, executing an intricate dance over their heads while Flitwick attempted to get them back down again. Half the class dissolved into laughter, half gave him acidic looks in spitting imitations of Hermione. She herself looked rather pleased that he hadn't produced a decent Accio.

"Mr. Antares, what spell did you cast?" Flitwick squeaked desperately. Harry blinked owlishly.

"Accio, sir." He said blankly. Draco snorted.

"Allow me, sir." He offered pompously, and pointed his wand at the cushions. A split second before he cast the spell, Harry realised that his hand was bare. "Finite Incantatem!"

The cushions fell immediately to the floor with gentle thumps, as did Morag McDougal's robes.

Chaos reigned as every single spell in the room was cancelled out. Hermione's hair exploded in a mass of frizz; Terry Boot's hair went from brown to blond; Draco's vision blurred as his vision-altering charm was stopped; and the torches in the brackets on the wall went out with a puff.

In the darkness, Draco felt for Harry. His hands felt someone at least four inches shorter.

"Sorry," he said quickly and was about to move on when someone grabbed his sleeve.

"It's me, idiot! You've taken out Dumbledore's disguise!"

Sure enough, Harry Potter's voice was hissing at him, barely audible over the shrieks of the other students. Draco choked.

"I can't have! It would defy the Fidelius!"

"Well it's bloody hell happened, all right? Now either recast it or get me out of here!"

"We'd better go." Draco replied fervently. He took Harry's hand, summoned their belongings and made for the door, away from the squealing people and a rather irate Flitwick. He quickly cast an Invisibility Charm over Harry and opened the door. Light flooded into the classroom, and the rest of the class turned to stare at him, including Flitwick.

"Malfoy! Get back here and sort it out!" he howled.

"Sorry sir, I need to go to the Hospital Wing!" Draco called as they sped down the corridor. Harry led the way to Dumbledore's office, Draco listening for Harry's footsteps since he couldn't see him. They skidded to a halt beside the gargoyle.

"Acid Pops!"

The gargoyle leapt aside and they sped through, running up the stairs in their hurry.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy. How may I help you?" Dumbledore asked from where he sat behind his desk. Draco removed the Cloaking spell and Dumbledore's eyes immediately darkened. He stood and moved around the desk, taking out his wand and running it over the now much shorter Harry Potter, complete with scar and bright green eyes. Draco found himself squinting at the scrawny boy, wondering how on earth he could be the same as James. Especially when he was wearing too-long robes which pooled on the floor.

"Mr. Malfoy, your powers are expanding. You overrode all the charms I personally cast on Harry. However, I do believe that the one person who could do the same happens to be Harry, so hopefully if you were to cast the charm this time it should be unbreakable." Dumbledore said after a while.

"But how come he was able to cast it before, whenever it started running out? Why couldn't he have just done that in the classroom?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"I was renewing the charm, not casting it." Draco snapped irritably. "There is an immense difference, you know. Did you not get an OWL in Charms?"

Harry stared at Draco in shock. So did Dumbledore.

"Don't you think that was a little uncalled for, Mr Malfoy?" he said slowly. Draco looked at Harry and made a strangled noise. Harry was looking at him through unfocused eyes, but the sadness there was evident.

"Harry, I –"

"Just cast the charm." Harry said quietly, looking at the floor. Draco hesitated before turning to Dumbledore.

"Picture James in your mind, and say the incantation – _Integer Effigio_."

Draco took out his wand, held it in his un-gloved hand and pointing it at Harry with a shaking arm.

"_Integer Effigio_." He whispered. There was a flash of pale blue light, which faded to reveal James Antares, still staring at the floor. He sighed and hoisted his bag over his head.

"Thank you Headmaster," he said softly, and left without another glance at Draco, who was watching despondently. The Slytherin turned to Dumbledore as the door clicked shut softly.

"I think I just messed up." He said numbly. Dumbledore nodded gravely.

"I suggest that you correct your mistake. It would not do either of you any good to be moping around the castle for the rest of the day. Plus, I do believe that your powers are more stable when in close proximity. In his current state, Harry could easily override the restricting charms and unleash unwanted magic. Go. Apologise and hope he accepts."

Draco nodded morosely and pulled on his glove, casting the vision charm before leaving.

* * *

Harry started in shock as Draco appeared with a puff of smoke beside him. He was confused until he saw Draco take his hand away from the bracelet on his wrist.

"What do you want?" he asked shortly, turning back to stare out across the grounds in the midday sun. Students were wandering over the grass during the lunch break, a few practising on the Quidditch pitch.

"To apologise, say I was completely out of line and that I'll make it up to you in whatever way you choose?" Draco suggested quietly. He moved to wrap his arms around Harry's waist but the Gryffindor jerked away, deep blue eyes flashing angrily.

"Just leave me alone," he snarled, and smacked Draco's hesitant hand away, storming back down the Astronomy Tower steps. Draco growled at himself and sat down dejectedly on the parapet, scrubbing his hands through his hair in exhaustion.

* * *

I am extremely pleased with myself. I have another chapter written, waiting to be beta'ed... but it's still written!

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

smokey

is dreading next week...


	26. A Matter Of Hindsight

Since I haven't got the next chapter written, I decided to post this now and then work out the next chapter over the next week. This is me being optimistic though, I can't promise anything. Feel privileged that you've got two chapters in as many days.

* * *

"James?"

Harry looked up from his Potions essay as Neville stuck his head around the dormitory door. He set his quill down and turned his focus to the round-faced boy.

"Yes?"

"Ron wants you downstairs. Says it's kind of important."

"Tell him to come and get me himself." Harry replied coldly, taking up his quill again and dipping it in the well. He heard Neville leave, and various hushed whispers from the common room down the stairs. After a few minutes, heavier, more awkward footsteps sounded on the stone stairs. Harry was aware of Ron's presence, but chose to ignore it and continued blithely with his essay until Ron cleared his throat.

"Yes?"

"I'll get straight to the point." Ron said briskly, striding over to Harry's desk and standing beside it. Harry looked up at him.

"You'd better hurry up then. It might escape."

"Look, this isn't easy for me to ask, so stop making it harder!" Ron snapped angrily Harry raised his eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "We, that is, the Quidditch team have spent the time since our last match deciding on whether to change the team around or not. In short, we've decided that we should. And we want you to play Seeker."

Harry's eyebrows disappeared into his mop of hair.

"You're a bit late asking, aren't you?" he asked incredulously. Ron shifted nervously.

"We think you're our best chance of beating Slytherin. They've got a really strong team this year, and ours… it's seen better days. Believe me," his expression hardened. "I wouldn't be asking if we had any other choice. But it's become obvious that we need extra help to keep the Cup. So there's your choice. Play for us or don't. It's up to you, but we, as a team, hope that you agree. The match is on Friday afternoon, so I need an answer Friday morning at latest."

"I'll do it." Harry said immediately, to Ron's shock.

"You will? Just like that?"

"Yes. I think it'll be fun to play a bit of competitive Quidditch. All this just flying around is getting boring."

Ron stared at him.

"We are playing against Slytherin, you know." He said slowly. "And Malfoy's Seeker. Don't you two have a sort of… thing going on?"

"Not at the moment, no," he replied smoothly, and Ron at least had the sense not to ask more.

"Good. Well, don't say anything. You're going to be our secret weapon. Don't let anybody else see you fly either. We want it to be a surprise." He gazed at Harry for a while. "So yeah. Friday afternoon. Don't miss it." He finished, and went back downstairs, where the buzz of chatter paused briefly as Ron relayed the information, then came back louder as they discussed it. Harry smiled to himself and bent his head over his essay. His bracelet sat shining on his bedside table.

* * *

The shock on Draco's face when he walked out onto the pitch in full Gryffindor Quidditch robes was priceless. He physically stopped in his tracks in shock, mouth open and eyes staring. He wasn't the only one.

"It appears that Captain Ron Weasley has been shuffling his team around and has actually recruited James Antares to replace Ginny Weasley as Seeker! This really is a shock for Slytherin, who were probably just expecting the old formation. Just look at Malfoy's face!" Moon yelled gleefully as Draco walked numbly across the pitch to shake hands with a rather smug-looking Ron.

"Mount your brooms. No cheating."

Harry saw Ron roll his eyes at Dean, who gave him a thumbs-up. Harry swung his leg over his broom and waited for the whistle.

"And they're off!"

Ten minutes in and Harry had seen neither hide nor hair of the Snitch. He had, however, noticed that Draco still wore the bracelet around his wrist. He surreptitiously slipped off his gloves, hiding them in his Quidditch robes as he hovered high above the crowds and other players. Dean scored against a rather distracted Bletchley, and Harry swept downward to avoid a Bludger as it rocketed his way. Malfoy kept on sending him quick glances in between searching for the Snitch, and he was sorely tempted to hit him around the head. But a brief flash of gold in the corner of his eye, and he hauled the Firebolt 42 around sharply and shooting after the Snitch as it swerved and dodged around the players, moving up towards the sky.

"James Antares has seen the Snitch!" he heard Moon calling, but blocked out the noise, concentrating instead on the small ball just out of his reach. Throwing all reservations aside, he reached deeper inside of him, pulling out the powerful magic that he knew was simmering just below the surface, anticipating his call, pushing through the magical block that Dumbledore had put on him to reach out and reel in the Snitch…

"FOUL!"

Harry hurtled off course as Malfoy slammed into his side, and his concentration broke, the Snitch disappearing once again into the sky. He righted himself and swerved around to where Malfoy was hovering.

"What the hell are you doing?" he roared, advancing upon the Slytherin captain, who stood his ground firmly.

"You were cheating." He said simply. Harry scoffed.

"Since when does that matter to you?" he snarled. Malfoy sneered at him.

"It doesn't. But Harry Potter would never have done something like that."

"I'M NOT HARRY POTTER!" Harry bellowed, and half the players stopped playing to stare at them both, glaring daggers at each other from three feet. Malfoy lowered his voice considerably.

"Oh yes you are. You're Harry Potter whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not. There might be only a few people who know who you are, but they do know." He moved closer to Harry. The Gryffindor's glare intensified, but he didn't back off. "I know that you are Harry Potter, and I still love you."

With lightning reflexes, Harry's right hand shot out and grabbed him around the throat. Magic sparked between them as he tightened his grip as the other players carried on with the game.

"Don't push me, Malfoy." He snarled viciously. Malfoy simply sat there, not moving.

"I'm not trying to. I just want you to play as you normally would. Don't lose yourself because of something that I said!" he hissed. Harry pushed a small amount of magic through his scar, and Malfoy grunted in pain as it seared his skin.

"Don't be so self-centred." Harry spat. "This has nothing to do with you!"

"What is it then, just proving to the Gryffindors that you are capable? Why do you need to? What does it really matter what they think?"

"Everything matters!" Harry growled.

"What about your integrity?" the Slytherin asked quietly. "Could you live with yourself afterwards, knowing that you had cheated just to show that you could win? Because that's still not winning, you know. Prove that you can win without help, and then you'll have something to be proud of."

"I could beat you without magic anyway." Harry sneered. Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"Really? _Prove_ it."

Forcing magic out through his skin, he was propelled away from Harry was a crack as the magics collided and released Harry's grip. Not looking back to the Gryffindor, he sped upwards to where a glint of gold was hovering near the top of the Slytherin goalpost.

He could feel it more than anything else as Harry caught up with him, his broom carrying him forward towards the ball. Pushing his old Nimbus 2001 as much as he could without using extra magic, he reached out his hand and closed it around the Snitch at the exact same time as Harry drew level and made a grab for it.

He briefly registered Harry's warm hand overlapping his before they were both whirled away by the Portkey to some unknown destination.

* * *

Harry's deep blue eyes snapped open in the darkness. He groaned, the cold, wet stone beneath him chilling him to the bone, and rolled over slowly and awkwardly. For a panicked moment, he suddenly thought he had been rendered blind bysome unknownspell's power – but no, he could faintly see a chink of light from beneath the door. At least he had something to remind him of the outside world.

"Draco?" he whispered cautiously. There was no answer. Cursing himself for taking off his bracelet, he struggled onto his knees and crawled forward, one hand held out to feel for anything. The palm hit the dripping wall of the cell, a bit hard for his liking. With a small grumble, he shuffled around and moved away from the wall. He froze as he heard another sound cut through the air, separate from his uneven breathing and the swish of his robes on the floor.

A faint jingle of something metal came from over where the door was, getting nearer. Keys, perhaps, wielded by his captors. Using the wall for support, he slowly hauled himself to a sitting position, not feeling that his legs would hold him up, hands patting himself down frantically for his wand. Completely unsurprised when the search proved fruitless, he held his right hand facing the door as the footsteps stopped and the keys were pushed roughly into the door.

He blinked against the sudden brightness as the door was flung open, screwing his eyes up though he knew he really shouldn't. He cracked them open and squinted at the figure in the doorway. It certainly looked like a Death Eater – the person was wearing the customary black robes and white mask. He – Harry decided it wasn't a woman – stalked up to him, and whipped out one arm to grab Harry's wrist in a cold, tight grip and hoist it above the Gryffindor's head violently.

"My… haven't you got yourself in a bit deep this time, Antares?" the man sneered, and Harry instinctively shrank away from the silky voice, although the hand and wall did a wonderful job of ensuring he couldn't move anywhere. "And there's nobody to help you this time." Harry brandished his right hand – the one that Snape wasn't holding – and hissed a brief stunning spell.

"Don't be stupid. You can't cast in this place."

He let go of Harry's wrist and took out his wand.

"Come. You've kept us waiting long enough."

Harry hauled himself to his feet and took a few unsteady steps to make sure he could actually do it. It got easier as he approached the door, and he fingered the coldrunic band now around his wrist as he followed Snape down the corridor.

"Ah, Mister Antares." Lucius said smoothly as he and Snape emerged from the dungeons. "We've been waiting for you."

"So I've heard." He said snidely. Lucius sneered, and in one swift movement, struck him across the face with his cane. Harry's head jerked back sharply, and he tottered for a moment before regaining his balance. Turning his head slowly back to face Lucius, he snarled at the pompous git.

"You have no idea what you're getting into." He spat. Lucius raised an eyebrow.

"And I thought that Potter was arrogant. It seems that you are even more so."

"You have no idea." He drawled in his best impression of Draco, aware that he couldn't be recognised in this form but still cautious to hide any of his own idiosyncrasies.

"But I shall do soon." Lucius said smoothly, and jerked his head to Snape. "Come. He is getting impatient."

* * *

I do hope that more than one person reading this actually _wants_ to know what happens next. In fact, if you do, please let me know!

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

I feel like a stuck record. Argh.

smokey

is feeling exceptionally benevolent...


	27. The God of Life and Death

Yes, I do realise that this has been a few weeks late in coming, but my micronation has just gone to war and as a General in the army, I am required to lead 4th Mech Warfare Corps into battle.

But anyway...

Voilà.

* * *

Harry winced as the doors in front of him were slammed open and he dragged through them, the sound of his haphazard attempt to stay standing echoing eerily down the dank corridor that stretched behind them. As Snape roughly forced him into the room, he was struck by the sharp contrast to the rest of the dungeons that he had so far see – rich greens and browns highlighted by the cheerfully burning torches in brackets around the large room. To the left and right of the door as he entered were raised platforms, where Death Eaters were sat sneering at him as he looked around. As Lucius stepped up onto the left-hand platform, he motioned violently to Avery, who quickly vacated the seat so that Lucius could sit down comfortably. It was clear who was higher in the pecking order. Harry watched curiously as Snape moved to the back of the room, hiding behind one of four pillars in the semi-darkness compared to the rest of the room. There were mysterious and detailed tapestries lining the shadowed back wall, behind Snape. Harry drew a sharp breath as he noticed that Draco was bound to one of the pillars.

Blood was running in small rivulets down his face where there was a vicious cut at his left temple, and a trail was left down his chin where the red liquid had leaked out of his mouth. His right eye was a deep purple, the bruise vividly spreading over half of his cheek. His eyes were currently closed – from exhaustion or unconsciousness Harry wasn't sure – but he was pretty sure that if he wasn't bound to the pillar, he wouldn't be standing upright. Harry bristled as Bellatrix prowled around the Slytherin, wand drawn. Tearing his eyes away from Draco, he focused on Voldemort, who was sat in a large chair in the centre of the pillars, Wormtail hiding in the shadows behind him.

"I see you've deemed us worthy of your presence." Voldemort began sarcastically. He stood from his seat and walked up to Harry, who was having considerable trouble not collapsing due to the pins and needles running through his legs. Voldemort stuck out a hand. "I don't believe we've been acquainted. I am Lord Voldemort." he said shortly. Harry looked down at the offered hand and snorted in contempt.

"So I've heard." He replied caustically, and immediately felt a wand poking into his back.

"You will respect Lord Voldemort, or you will suffer. Introduce yourself, boy." He heard Avery hiss in his ear. Forcing himself not to jerk away from the wand and risk being cursed, he stuck out his right hand, grasping Voldemort's for a brief second. It was cold and dry, yet had an odd feel to it, almost rubbery.

"James Antares."

He jerked his hand away, careful not to expose the runic band fitted snugly on his left wrist as he shifted, his Quidditch robes slightly worse for wear. Voldemort reached down and grabbed his hand again, turning it over so his palm was facing up, and scrutinised the vicious scar that twisted across the soft skin.

"A lightning-shaped scar." He murmured, and reached out to touch it with one long finger. It was repelled with a loud crack and gold sparks flying, making Harry wince. Voldemort merely looked amused. "Not so unlike another one of my enemies that I destroyed."

Releasing Harry's hand and stalking back to his chair, he sat down and arranged his robes around himself.

"I am correct in assuming that you already know of the great Harry Potter's timely demise." He said matter-of-factly. Harry reined in a snarl.

"Perfectly aware of it. The Daily Prophet had a field day with the story." He replied dryly. Voldemort nodded slowly.

"Good. Then I won't have to tell you what will happen to you should you attempt to escape or foolishly think that you can take on all my Death Eaters at once… alone." He finished with a pointed look at Draco. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Why did you bring us here? If you'd wanted to kill us, you really should have done it earlier." He shot back in an irritated tone. Voldemort's lips quirked slightly, and his bright red eyes shone with a disturbing intensity.

"After I had annihilated Harry Potter, I simply decided to destroy the greatest threat in the next generation. I therefore sent my minion to Hogwarts with the mission of killing the most powerful student in the castle. However, it was soon related to me that there were two students of equally enormous power prowling around the school… imagine my surprise when I found out it my most faithful servant's own son, and a Gryffindor!" Voldemort made a face, his lips curling in a feral manner and his eyes narrowing. Harry guessed it was his idea of a grin. "Oh, the outrage."

"I think I've had a brainwave." Harry said sardonically. "You want us to join you."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow, and the gathered Death Eaters muttered around the room. He silenced them with a flick of his hand.

"How for Merlin could you have known that, boy?" he snapped. Harry smirked.

"Just a good guess."

"Top secret classified information, that… we must have a leak…" Nott whispered to Lucius, who rolled his eyes derisively.

"Did you not hear the boy? He simply happened to guess correctly." He lowered his voice and grumbled into his hand. "Though it was hardly an original plan…"

"Stop chuntering, Lucius." Voldemort admonished, his bald head glinted under the torchlight. He turned back to Harry. "As unoriginal as Lucius might deem it, that is, indeed, my proposal – accept the Dark Mark, or I will kill you."

"I'm not afraid to die." Harry shot back, the magic searing through his bones, trying desperately to override the wards on the dungeon that held his magic back. He had a nasty feeling that if the pressure kept on building, he was going to explode. And get slimy intestine bits all over Voldemort's robes. The thought made him smile, which apparently wasn't a good idea.

"You find this funny, boy?" Voldemort snarled, and he forced his face straight. He didn't think that the Dark Lord would find it funny it he told him.

"Do your worse." He said simply in return. Wormtail shifted nervously behind Voldemort's chair, and Harry could see Snape watching them out of the corner of his eye. The Dark Lord leaned back in his throne-like chair and steepled his fingers. The notion was so similar to that of Dumbledore's that Harry felt nauseous.

"I do hope you realise that your counterpart has already joined my forces. He was due to receive the Dark Mark in a few weeks, regardless." He said mildly, and Harry's stomach churned. He glanced over at Draco, who was staring at the floor resolutely. As Voldemort spoke, Bellatrix grabbed Draco's face and forced it up to look Harry in the eye. They were dull and dead.

"I know what you put him through last summer." Harry replied slowly. "He would never join you after what you made him do."

Voldemort's previously smug face fell.

"Kill him." He snarled. As Wormtail raised his silver hand, Harry was struck by a sudden burst of inspiration.

"Wait!" he yelled, and Voldemort raised his own hand so quickly that Wormtail as thrown backwards against the tapestry. It fell down on top of him. Voldemort steadfastly ignored the complaints behind him as he eyed Harry.

"You will join me?" he asked shrewdly. Harry snorted.

"In your dreams. But I have my own proposition."

Voldemort sneered at him.

"What on earth would that be?" he asked contemptuously. Harry smirked.

"You tell me how you managed to get us here –" he gestured around the silent room. "– and I'll tell you what that black band around Draco's wrist is for."

As the gathered Death Eaters murmured between themselves, Harry prayed that if he didn't rise to the bait, Draco would still have enough power left in him to override the wards and bring him back to life. Though well aware that it was very unlikely, it was the only other option.

"How did you know about that band?" Voldemort snapped over the mutterings of the Death Eaters, who immediately fell silent. "You have no such bracelet, I had you checked as soon as you were brought here."

"It has a twin. Some seventh year has the other one." Draco's head snapped up. "If you would look, there are three stones on it. Pressing them in different combinations activates different actions."

"How do you know this?" Snape asked suspiciously from the corner. Harry looked back at him.

"He told me. The point is, if all three are pressed, then the person with the other band will share the other's magic. I was simply suggesting that you might want to do so, in case the other person were to take it upon themselves to transfer their own magic to Draco and have him override the system."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Voldemort sneered. Harry shrugged.

"You don't."

"I do not believe you. However, since you asked so nicely, I shall tell you how I got you here." He said benignly. Harry felt his eyebrows disappear under his hair involuntarily. "Yes, Antares. I will." The Dark Lord smirked at him. "It was that stupid Ravenclaw girl. I've been having her attempt to kill the most powerful people all year. After her last failed attempt – when you caught her hiding in Dumbledore's office – I ordered her simply to bring you both to me. At least she managed to succeed this time." He finished nastily.

"She wasn't under Imperius?" Harry asked incredulously. Avery snorted.

"Tried that myself, she threw it off. We had to bargain with her."

"Quiet, man." Voldemort snapped. "Now this little exchange of information is over, I do believe that Antares here has an overdue appointment with Charon. He's waiting for you. Goodbye." He waved cheerily, and as he did, Harry felt an enormous surge of power explode out of his stomach, and he bent double with the excruciating pain. He couldn't believe it… he'd actually exploded…

The air around him shimmered, almost like a halo of light rippling around him, pulsing in time with his own heartbeat as the magic burned through his veins. The scar over his eye was itching something terrible, and his right hand was emitting silver and gold sparks, that skittered over the hard stone floor as the Death Eaters shifted in their confusion.

Craning his neck upwards to see Voldemort, he felt a brief pang of satisfaction at the utter befuddlement on the Dark Lord's face before the aura of magic was suddenly sucked back into him with a whooshing noise.

For a single second in time, the room was still and completely silent, and then with the force on a small bomb the roiling magic exploded out of his system in a shockingly bright ring of light that hurtled through the air and thundered across the room, the torches in the brackets on the damp walls going out with streams of smoke.

As the light faded and the shaking stopped – Harry wasn't sure if the tremors were running through the room or himself – he looked up and around the room. Or tried to, at least. His eyes were blurred beyond belief, and a quick feel of his forehead confirmed that his glamour had indeed been completely obliterated.

"_Oculus absolvo_." He whispered, lying his hand over his eyes. Pure white light seeped out of his scar to envelop his eyes, and when it cleared the perfect vision that he had become used to had returned. This sorted, he cast his eyes once more around the dark room, lit only by the wandlight of a few of the more astute Death Eaters – and the glow that he realised was emanating from himself.

Voldemort's chair was lying in splinters where it had been previously stood in front of one of the pillars. The Death Eaters were sprawled in various places around the room, looking gloriously dishevelled in their scattered state. Draco was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, the ropes that had bound him disappeared.

As Harry watched, Draco slowly raised himself from the ground and looked up at him. He couldn't explain the feeling that the stormy grey eyes conveyed to him – it was a whole mix of amazement, fear and love. He stepped towards the Slytherin, slightly awkward in his unfamiliar body, and touched his hand to the other boy's forehead. As he did, silver sparks showered over Draco, followed by a cleansing white light that left his wounds healed.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry turned to where Voldemort has reappeared from behind one of the pillars, his vivid red eyes wide with shock as he stared at the small, green-eyed boy

"Don't think you can get rid of me that easily." He shot back, and behind him heard a sudden movement. In a flash, he whipped around with one hand raised. Lucius cracked backwards against the far wall, collapsing with a sickening crunch. His wand rolled out of his hand.

"What by Merlin's name are you?" Rodolphus hissed from where he was laid on the right-hand platform, nursing a damaged leg.

"The God of Life and Death." Harry replied quietly. "Your deaths and lives are mine alone."

Then suddenly the soft glow that had been shining around him disappeared, and he whirled around on Bellatrix with a kind of righteous anger conveyed spectacularly through the gold sparks crackling on his skin.

"And I choose to end yours."

With a flick of his wrist, and a flash of darkness, Bellatrix fell to the floor. As the other Death Eaters watched in horror, thick, acid-green liquid poured out of her body. They scrambled away from the Basilisk venom as it spread across the floor in a pool of furious jealousy – and then her body burst into green flames so tall that they licked at the ceiling, reflected in Harry's own eyes. He turned slowly to gaze around at the rest of the Death Eaters.

Then with one swift movement, he pulled Draco close and with all the magic searing through his body, he forced himself to Hogwarts.

Breaking through the hundreds and thousands of wards on the castle left Harry gasping for breath as they materialised in the Great Hall, the air crackling with the raw power seeping off the young Gryffindor. As soon as they arrived, Harry collapsed on the floor, Draco alongside him, both in a daze.

As though through a haze, Harry watched as people moved across his field of vision in silence, his hearing blocked by some unknown force – possibly the stars twinkling down at him from the ceiling.

He could feel an insistent pulling at his whole body, pulsing through his veins, and on instinct turned toward Draco, lying beside him. As their skin touched, Harry felt Draco's magic flow back out into the Slytherin with a gut-wrenching emptiness. Resisting the sensation to follow the magic out of himself and into freedom, he rolled onto his back, the people milling around keeping their distance from the two students.

* * *

I anticipate 2 more chapters after this one (one of which is already written) before it finishes.

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

smokey


	28. Virtue

Sorry it's been quite a while, but I've got rather important exams coming up in 10 different subjects, starting tomorrow and going on until the 16th of June, so I'm a bit frantic at the moment.

Strange happenings... turned around yesterday to find my rabbit drinking out of my beer bottle...

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry groaned at the thumping cacophony in his head as he heard Hermione's voice, and instinctively rolled away from the cause of the pain, hitting something soft and warm. Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he took one long sniff, and nearly coughed as the acrid stench of TCP in the Hospital Wing shot straight up his nose. Touching Draco's arm lightly as the Slytherin slept, he felt the magic seep through gently to soothe the thundering headache, and he mustered the energy to roll back.

"Hello."

Hermione looked as though she had been crying. Her face was pale as she stared at him, as though she didn't want to believe that he was real, and as he sat up, she raised her hand to her mouth.

"Oh, Harry." She breathed, her voice choked with tears. "What happened to you?"

Harry gazed down at his hand, which had a bandage wrapped around, already stained with blood, before answering the question.

"When?"

"Oh, all the time!" Hermione burst out, half frustrated, half upset. "You've been hiding from us for nearly a year, Harry! How long did you hope to keep this up?"

Harry shrugged, picking at the quilt resting over the two single beds, Transfigured together to make one larger one.

"It was Dumbledore's idea." He said lamely, and Hermione sighed in a rather exasperated tone.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that you had no say in this!" she shot back angrily, then her face fell. "Oh God… all the things that we said to you…"

"Yes, that did rather interest me." Harry replied grimly. "I saw a whole new side to Ron. I never knew just how jealous he was of me – even after what you said during the Triwizard Tournament, it never clicked that he might actually still be bothered."

"Well you certainly could have tried a bit harder to be our friends." She snapped.

"Why bother, when I have one better right next to me?" he snarled in response. She glanced at Draco briefly before looking down at the floor.

"You could never understand what I went through those first few weeks of term." He said softly. Hermione squirmed uncomfortably.

"We were still grieving for you." She replied quietly. "We weren't in the best frame of mind to acquire a new friend."

Harry shook his head in disgust.

"Do you know what Ron did, that night after we first started Animagus training?" Harry spat furiously. Hermione shook her head. "He shouted at me for quarter of an hour about how much he hated Harry Potter, then beat me up and locked me in a broom cupboard for the night. I wasn't found again until the next morning, when Draco had the sense to use the Map."

"I'm sorry." She replied quietly, but Harry wasn't finished.

"And then when I collapsed on the floor? And I was taken to the Hospital Wing? I woke up to you and Ron talking about me, basically slagging off both James and Harry. Still _ignorant_, am I?" he raged. He felt Draco move beside him, and immediately turned to him in favour of Hermione.

"How you doing?" he asked anxiously. Draco looked up at him through fatigue-laden eyes.

"Not too bad." He replied, his voice hoarse. "I think they had a bit of trouble healing some of the worst curses."

Harry looked around for his watch, but couldn't see it anywhere – so instead, he held his right hand up, scar glowing beneath the bandage.

"_Tempus_."

As the numbers formed in the air, he heard a small gasp from Hermione.

"We've been in here two days." He informed the Slytherin. "And we have a visitor."

At this, Draco started, and raised himself up on one elbow to see over Harry. As he caught sight of Hermione, his face twisted into the familiar sneer. It looked as though he was about to say something scathing, but then his face went blank, and he glanced up at Harry instead.

"I suppose I have to be nice to them, now the plan's gone to pot?" he asked, sounding disappointed. Harry frowned.

"I honestly couldn't care." He replied, realising as he said it that it sounded a bit too nasty. "But that's a point, I'll need to speak to Dumbledore about the Secret. It might have been the massive power surge that obliterated it – I don't know though, I'm just guessing…" he mused. Draco shrugged.

"I'm sure if you ask Pomfrey to get him, she will. You're back as the Golden Boy now, there's nothing people won't do to please their undead saviour."

"Don't you make me sound like a vampire." Harry said, screwing up his face. He ran his hands through his perpetually messy hair. "To which point, I bet I'll have the Prophet accosting me as soon as I'm out of this room."

"Are you still here?" Draco asked brusquely, and Harry stared down at him.

"Draco…?"

"I meant her." He gestured irritably, and Harry looked to his left, surprised to see Hermione still sat there, nervously fiddling with her robes.

"Hermione, what do you honestly expect to achieve by being here?" Harry asked her tiredly.

"I think she's hoping you'll forgive her and the Weasel and go running back to them, abandoning me along the way." Draco suggested sardonically. Harry smacked him.

"I wasn't asking you."

"I just…" she began, but Harry waved her excuses away.

"Look, I'm not going to pretend that we're going to be best of buddies from now on, all right? But I don't see why we have to be enemies."

Hermione nodded slowly.

"I'll see you later then."

Harry watched as she stood and walked over to the door of the Hospital, Wing, pausing as she met Dumbledore on his way in. they exchanged a few quiet words, and with one last look back at Harry and Draco in the bed, Hermione left. Dumbledore watched her go for a moment before gliding across the floor to the beds.

"I see you are awake." He commented. Harry suppressed the urge to respond with something scathing. Beside him, Draco pulled the covers up over his head.

"Good afternoon, Professor." Harry replied as Dumbledore took up the seat on his side of the bed.

"How are you this day?"

"I'm fine, nothing that Draco can't heal." He shrugged, and manoeuvred to sit up straight with his back against the wall, scratching his bare chest. Dumbledore peered over Harry to see the lump of sheets on his other side.

"And, er… how is Mr Malfoy doing?"

"Probably getting all hot and bothered under there." Harry replied mildly. "He's mostly fine, just a few minor repercussions from the curses that Madame Pomfrey couldn't sort out. He'll live though."

"It should prove a slight disappointment, should the God of Life die."

"You make us both sound like creatures from another realm." Harry said softly. Dumbledore regarded him through half-moon spectacles that glinted in the warm light of the open fire behind the headmaster. The smell of freshly baked bread and honey wafted in from the Great Hall, where the feast was commencing.

"You ought to be now aware of the stories circulating about the two of you – yourself in particular. The Boy Who Lived, supposedly dead, but then resurrected miraculously six months later? The Wizarding World is in a state of disorder that I have rarely seen before."

"Thanks for reminding me to ask you." Harry yawned between his sentences. "What happened with the Secret?"

"I was hoping that you might be able to help me with that. It is a conundrum to which I have not discovered the answer."

"And…" Harry fumbled at the neck of his pyjamas, pulling out the gold chain with the Prohibiting Charm on it. The lion was twisted and charred.

"And this too?"

"Another, to which I am sure that you yourself have the answer. I ask you, please tell me what transpired in Malfoy Manor two days ago."

Harry took a deep breath.

"Nothing much, really. I woke up and Snape and Lucius took me to Voldemort. Draco was already there, it looked like they'd beaten him up. Me and Voldemort talked for a bit, he tried to recruit me, then he tried to kill me. But Draco used the bracelets to transfer all of his magic to me, and I think the power was just… too much. It kind of exploded out of me."

"I presumed something along those lines must have happened," Dumbledore agreed, nodding his ancient head. "That would explain the destruction of the Prohibiting Charm – such a weak spell would never stay under such duress. I also felt the spell for myself as the Secret Keeper break whilst we were searching for you. I could not understand how such a thing could have happened, to begin with. But what happened then?"

"I just basically untied Draco, healed him and then…" Harry paused, and suddenly he felt sick. "Oh god, Bellatrix Lestrange…" he whispered. Dumbledore peered at him in a concerned way as his face grew pale.

"Harry? What happened?"

The memory of what he had done all came rushing back to him, and he abruptly leant over the edge of the bed and vomited on the floor. Dumbledore inched away.

"_Evanesco_." He murmured, and the sick disappeared, along with the rotten stench. Harry shook violently as he rolled back onto the bed, and Dumbledore watched with interest as one pale hand crept out from underneath the sheets to rest on Harry's side, and the shaking stopped.

"I killed her." Harry said quietly, staring at the ceiling. "I _killed_ her."

"Everyone and everything has a time to die." Dumbledore replied in a vague attempt to console the Gryffindor. It didn't work.

"I never thought that I'd ever kill someone."

"Welcome to my world."

Harry broke out of his reverie and looked down at Draco, who had appeared from under the sheets, looking slightly ruffled but more open than he had ever seen him.

"I don't think I like it very much." He whispered, and one single tear eased out of his bright green eyes to roll down his cheek.

Draco chose not to reply; he simply tightened his hold on the younger boy and pressed his face into the pillow beneath his head. Harry looked back at Dumbledore.

"I don't particularly want to talk to the Prophet about this, you know."

"I know."

"But it's only February, I'm going to have to go back to lessons."

"Yes. Madame Pomfrey has told me that you should be fit to continue your normal routine by tomorrow afternoon. Both of you."

Dumbledore stood to leave.

"Wait, sir." Harry said suddenly as the Headmaster walked toward the door. He looked around, with an expression of mild interest on his face.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Please… tell Snape thanks. For getting the bracelet for me."

"Professor Snape, Harry. And I shall. Good night to you both."

Harry watched the old wizard contemplatively as he glided out of the Hospital Wing serenely. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if perhaps he was taking some sort of wizarding drug. He looked down as he felt Draco's warm breath against his shoulder. The Slytherin was staring resolutely at Harry's pyjama-clad leg, his scar pulsing with a gentle light where it rested on Harry's stomach. He looked up at Harry as the other boy glanced at him.

"I would miss you something terrible if you were to die." He said in a low voice. Harry smiled sadly.

"I forgive you." He whispered, and bent his head to kiss the top of Draco's white-blond hair. "I don't think I could have stayed angry with you for very long."

"And thanks."

"No problem."

They lay in silence for a moment, simply accepting each other in the quiet warmth of the Hospital Wing, Harry's un-bandaged hand gently sifting through the Slytherin's soft hair as the other boy drew light circles on his bare stomach, just enough to not tickle.

Harry slid back down to lie beside Draco. He felt his eyes drifting shut, and vaguely wondered what he looked like without glasses on. It must have been weird for Hermione, he conceded, to see him like this. If he had thought that Ron was dead, then he had reappeared again six months later with a world of experience in his eyes, Harry wouldn't know how to react. Then again, he was still slightly miffed that Ron hadn't been there and waiting when he woke up.

The fact that Hermione actually had been there had to be a good sign, however dubious – but in a normal world, it would have been both of them there. Or perhaps just Ron, with Hermione researching what had happened to Harry this time. The loss of his best friend struck him more now than it had done before, because now he _was_ Harry Potter, not James Antares, and he wanted Ron to be there, no matter what the other boy had done to him in the past half year. Because he was still his best friend, apart from Draco of course. But that was probably just Draco. And Harry knew that Draco would die for him.

He dragged his eyes open as another thought occurred to him, gazing at his lover. His lover, who despite how Harry had treated him, still pursued his integrity. He gently nudged the dozing Slytherin, who groaned in response.

"Let me go to sleep, Harry." He muttered, pressing his face into Harry's neck. "Giving you all my magic kind of drained me, you know."

"I know." Harry said in a soft voice. "I just wanted to ask you something."

Draco sighed, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling, rubbing his eyes.

"Ask away then."

Harry had to marvel at Draco's absolute willingness to answer whatever he might ask, and do whatever he was asked. Smiling, Harry snuggled up to him.

"I love you."

Draco groaned.

"I thought you were going to ask me something!" he exclaimed, prodding Harry's side. The Gryffindor snorted and squirmed away.

"Yeah I am." He continued. "I was wondering what the Death Eaters beat you up for."

Draco had been regarding him with light, cheerful eyes, but as soon as Harry asked him that they clouded over and he turned away onto his other side, facing away from Harry. Harry winced and eased himself up onto on arm, leaning over Draco's body, one hand resting on his hip.

"Don't tell me if you don't want to."

"There's not much point in not telling you." Draco admitted with a sigh, and Harry rested his head on the Slytherin's arm. "You probably won't like what it was though."

"I don't mind." Harry said truthfully, wrapping his arm around Draco's waist.

"First, they tried to get me to join. I wouldn't. Then, they tried to get me to tell them any and all information regarding you. Funny, I actually couldn't for half of it, because of both your Secret and the spell with our scars. But I wouldn't tell them. Then they tried to get me to kill you. Then they brought you in."

Harry tightened his grip on the older boy, not having to ask what it was that he'd been through. Imperius, by the sound of it. And Cruciatus went without saying, of course. Harry didn't know many other Dark spells, but it didn't take much imagination to think up of what they might have done.

"I love you." He repeated, and moved back as Draco rolled over, fixing his emerald eyes with his own stormy ones.

"Do you?" he asked quietly.

Harry stared at him.

"Of course I do!" he said, shocked. "How could you think that I don't?"

Draco shrugged, looking at something over Harry's head.

"You seemed rather angry with me the other day, when I reacted badly to seeing _you_ as opposed to James. I know I was rather immature."

"I already said that I forgave you for that." Harry said incredulously, still having trouble getting his head around the concept that Draco didn't think that he loved him. "What's the problem?"

"I just wanted to be sure. Don't worry, go to sleep." Draco waved at him, motioning for him to turn over. Harry did so, still rather puzzled, so that his back was against Draco's chest. The Slytherin draped an arm over Harry's side, and the Gryffindor took hold of the hand and pulled it up against his chest.

"I do love you." He murmured, and felt Draco nod against his shoulder.

"Go to sleep."

"I'm awake now." Harry grumbled slightly, staring into the fire opposite the bed, his mind working ten to the dozen as he berated himself for god knows what. But even as he said it, he felt Draco's hand warm where it lay across his heart, and he immediately felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his chest. And then sleep was washing over him in waves of affection that seeped into his subconscious even as he fell under the gentle spell.

"I love you so much."

Harry felt the words, more than heard them – or maybe it was that they were in his head, reverberating through his mind. He wasn't sure, but he didn't really care. He knew it anyway.

He fell asleep.

* * *

As you know, only 1 chapter left. I realised today that I could have at leats made it up to 30 chapters for a nice round number. In fact, I might gather my grey cells together one last time just to do an Epilogue, just to make it 30. If I have the energy.

Comments very welcome and much appreciated.

Many thanks,

smokey


	29. Right and Ability

I am extremely giddy to announce that this fic is (practically) officially finished! The actual story is now done, it's just the Epilogue that now needs doing. But that's mostly done anyway.

My extreme apologies for any mistakes here, but I had to post it straight away because I'm going to be away for a month now and I wanted it posted before I went. So I didn't have time to send it to be beta'ed. So yeah, any mistakes are mine.

Still giddy...

* * *

Harry stared out of the stained-glass window and out onto the snow-covered ground, glistening in the February sun. He could feel Draco leaning against the wall on the other side of the little-known corridor, and loosened up slightly in the buzzing presence of the Slytherin, which he suspected only he could sense. It had been growing steadily stronger since that night. As though he had felt his lover's mental need to relax, Draco stepped across the corridor and wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor's waist, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder and watching the students having snowball fights below them. 

"You are very tense." He commented blandly, and Harry sagged against his body.

"I know."

"It won't be as bad as you think, you know. At least we haven't got Potions – you know that would have been hell."

"Remind me when we do have Potions, I want to make sure I'm in the Hospital Wing." Harry groaned. Draco smirked.

"Tomorrow, last thing. And you're not going to skive off, you're going to go to the bloody lesson with your head held high. Snape's on orders from Dumbledore not to antagonise you."

"Really?" Harry turned sharply in Draco's arms to eye the Slytherin suspiciously. "You're having me on, aren't you?"

"Not at all." Draco replied smugly. "I heard them talking when we were in the Hospital Wing, before you woke up. Dumbledore specifically told him that he wasn't to provoke you, since your powers were probably still pretty unstable at the moment and you might seriously injure someone if you lashed out."

"Great, he just confirmed Snape's belief that I'm a complete nutcase."

"No, he just reminded him that you could end his life without a word of warning."

Harry looked down at his feet, a faint blush rising across his cheekbones.

"Please don't remind me of what I did." He asked quietly, and Draco sighed, bring his arms up to rest on Harry's shoulders. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the Gryffindor's.

"Harry, if you hadn't killed her, I certainly would have done. If I had the power too, at least. All I seem to be able to do at the moment is make flowers grow."

Harry's lips quirked slightly, and Draco pulled him into a proper hug, glad at least that the other boy was responsive enough to return it.

"I'm not entirely sure what you're getting so worked up about, you know." He said mildly. Harry shrugged slightly in his hold.

"Their reaction, perhaps?" Harry responded sardonically. "I have been presumably dead for six months, you know."

"That's hardly your problem."

"I have to admit that I'm curious as to how Dumbledore's got around that one."

"He said you were in hiding."

Harry's head came up sharply, hitting Draco's chin.

"Ow." The Slytherin complained. Harry scowled.

"How do you know all these things?"

"I listen." Draco replied. "You should try it sometimes. I also read the newspapers."

"There's an article on me already?" Harry asked, shocked, pulling away from Draco, who looked slightly sheepish. "Didn't you think that I might want to know?" he demanded angrily.

"I've got it here if you want it now." He offered meekly. Harry glowered at him.

"Give it here." He snapped. "Better late than never, I suppose."

"If you're going to be like that, I'm not going to give you it." Draco retorted, and Harry sighed, leaning back against the window.

"OK, fine. Sorry. Can I read the article please?" he tried again in a much softer voice, and Draco nodded in assent, pulling the paper from his bag and handing it over.

"Don't worry, there's nothing incriminating in it." Draco assured him, and Harry nodded vaguely to show that he had heard and understood.

_HARRY POTTER – BACK FROM THE DEAD?_

_It has recently been revealed that Harry Potter, the Saviour of the Wizarding World, is not as dead as he had once appeared. He turned up at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just last week with Draco Malfoy, after the other boy had gone missing. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has been questioned on the subject of the boy's return._

"_Harry has been in hiding for the last six months. We believed it to be the best course of action, considering the erratic movement of the Dark Lord's followers and the uncertainty of capture should he be in public. Rest assured, he is very much alive, and always has been."_

("Except for second year when the Basilisk got you." Draco muttered.)

_Dumbledore refuses to disclose where Potter has been hiding all this time._

There was a picture too – one of him and Draco lying on the Great Hall's floor surrounded by students. Harry suspected that it had been a particular enthusiastic fifth year Gryffindor who had taken the picture.

"So people will probably want to know where I've been hiding." Harry said dejectedly. "I'm going to get loads of questions."

"No, you won't. Dumbledore's not that stupid, much as he appears to be. He will make sure that you aren't asked tons of questions. He probably told them to stay shut up over breakfast." Draco said confidently, and Harry raised a sceptical eyebrow.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm a Malfoy."

Harry frowned and peered down at the article again, worry etched deep onto his face, making him appear quite a lot older than he actually was. He absently raised his hand to rub at his scar, a habit that he'd managed to break after a few weeks of being James Antares – but that didn't matter now.

"I just don't want to see or hear Ron's reaction. Or Seamus' or Dean's. Neville I'm not worried about, because he's always been a good friend, but Ron might… I don't know, attack me or something…"

"Why does it really matter?" Draco asked, perplexed. Harry glared at him.

"Because it just does. They used to be my friends."

"Yeah, well they don't give a fuck about you like I do!" Draco burst out, then looked away sheepishly. Harry felt one eyebrow quirk involuntarily.

"Good of you to get that off your chest." He remarked mildly.

"That was slightly embarrassing." Draco replied calmly, and looked up at the Gryffindor. He was smiling at him.

"I know." He said simply. "I have done for quite a while. Don't you remember what I said to Hermione in the Hospital Wing?"

"No, I must have been asleep."

"I told her that you were a better friend than she or Ron had ever been." Harry said with a fond smile. "And I wasn't lying."

Draco jumped as the bell rang shrilly around them, signalling the end of lunch and the beginning of the next lesson. Harry picked his bag up from the floor, swinging it over his shoulder, and Draco copied his action in silence, observing his boyfriend through clouded eyes.

"You know that I'm right beside you." He said mildly, and Harry shivered.

"I'll be fine. Let's just go."

Draco watched as Harry led the way through the tapestry on the wall and through the secret passage to the main corridor beyond. They passed mainly unnoticed through the bustling crowds of the rest of the students, only a few doing the once again customary double-take as they recognised Harry, the bright green eyes no longer hidden behind round, broken glasses.

"Potter?"

Harry froze as he heard the voice behind him, recognising it immediately, and slowly turned to face Ernie Macmillan, who was regarding him with something akin to wonderment. "What on earth have you been getting up to?" he asked incredulously.

Harry floundered momentarily, trying to come up with a suitably vague and inconclusive answer, but was prevented form doing so as Draco tensed beside him. He felt the drop in temperature, and could see the silver sparks spitting from his hand.

"That is none of you business." He said coldly, and Ernie took a step back. "And you would do well to remember that."

Ernie muttered something that sounded vaguely apologetic before shuffling away. Draco relaxed and turned back to Harry, but the Gryffindor could see that his face was still set in determination.

"You didn't have to terrify him." He muttered as they continued on their way to Transfiguration, the others around them now giving them a wide berth.

"Yes I did." Draco retorted. "Otherwise he would have kept on bugging you. And besides, now everyone else knows not to ask questions too."

"This is true." Harry remarked, almost sarcastically, as a Hufflepuff first year saw them, squeaked, and scuttled away in terror. "I think you've reinforced your reputation as a bully."

"I was never a bully!" Draco objected as they tuned the corner onto the Transfiguration corridor. The rest of their class was already gathered outside the door, beginning to stream in. "I just liked to annoy people."

"And still do." Harry replied wryly as they approached the doorway. He paused momentarily as his eyes locked gazes with Ron, half-way through the door, but a nudge in his ribs made him move again.

"You're not getting scared again, are you?" Draco asked scathingly. Harry scowled at him.

"I'm not scared, and I never was." He snapped as he walked through the door, making a beeline for the back of the room, fully aware of the many stares he was receiving. "You just like to exaggerate."

"You know, you and I shouldn't get along." Draco said mildly as he seated himself beside the Gryffindor. "We argue far too much."

"Opposites attract." Harry said absently as he took out his quill and books, still aware that he was being stared at. For a moment he considered ignoring the insistent, niggling feeling of being watched, but then realised that if he did, the poor observers would probably have their heads bitten off by the God of Life sitting beside him.

"Yes, I'm alive," he said loudly, setting down his bag and looking up at them all. "And I am sure that you have a large enough collective brain to work it all out. Now, please stop staring at me. It's going to give me a complex."

Draco snorted as the rest of the class executed a synchronised blushing, and busied themselves with their own belongings as Burnette (the supply teacher)strode into the room. She spared Harry and Draco only a cursory glance before launching into the lesson. For which Harry was sure he'd be eternally grateful.

"I didn't think of that." Harry whispered suddenly as they began practising the spell. "Dumbledore's plan is never going to work. Everyone's going to see me with you and they'll realise what's been going on straight away!"

Draco blinked at him owlishly.

"I though that's what you were talking about with your little speech." He said, confused, not watching as he turned a quill into a fully-fledged eagle.

"I just wanted to sound a bit bitchy, really." Harry said with a shrug, and passed his hand over the imperious eagle, turning it into a large cluster of bones and feathers. "I hadn't thought about the implications of what I was saying."

"Well, does it really matter?" Draco asked with a shrug, creating a hatchling out of the bird remains, speeding up the growing process in a way that reminded Harry eerily of the artefact in the Department of Mysteries as the bird grew rapidly, stopping when it was full-grown.

"I suppose not." He mused, pushing the bird past its state and into old age, where it died and decayed on the desk with a wave of rotten, flesh. "Oh, that stinks!"

"Well you were the one that did it!" Draco said with a muffled gasp, his hand over his mouth and nose, attempting in vain to wave away the foul stench that others were beginning to notice. "God, just Banish it or something!"

"Mister Potter!"

Harry started, so unused to hearing people address him by his real name. Burnette peered down a him disapprovingly, her nose pinched as she glared down it at him. "Remove this mess at once."

"I don't know how!" he protested, staring in horror at the mess that was slowly spreading over his desk, to no doubt soon drip off the edge in a rather unpleasant manner.

"Oh for Merlin's sake." Draco muttered, casting silver light from his hand, and the pool of decayed flesh twisted into a spiral, imbued with the gentle light to form a bird shape that squawked angrily, flapping its wings as the last of the goo whipped up and sealed the cracks.

"Thank you, Mister Malfoy." Burnette said tartly, completely unfazed by the inhuman show of power from both of them. "I do believe that you are meant to be practising the Noxius spell. Make sure that's what you're doing, please."

She turned around sharply.

"Mister Weasley! Kindly prevent your curiously-shaped bird from removing Mister Finnegan's hand permanently."

Ron jumped, and stopped staring at Harry to Stupefy his admittedly odd-looking incarnation of a fierce bird as it advanced upon Seamus. Following his lead, the rest of the class continued with their spells, every now and then casting amazed looks at the two boys at the back who were doing amazing things to the quills on their desks.

* * *

"Oh dear, here they come." 

"Quick, hide!"

"There's no point, they've already seen us. Plus, it's immature."

"I don't care!"

"No."

"Get off me!"

The resulting scuffle ended up with Harry levitated upside down, five feet above the Quidditch stands, Draco regarding him inscrutably as he rotated the Gryffindor. Harry harrumphed irritably, his robes and scarf falling over his head, and was distinctly reminded of Snape's Worst Memory.

"That's not funny." He scowled, but Draco merely shrugged.

"You were being immature."

"They're pointing a wand at you."

Draco whipped around, wand drawn, but not quite fast enough – a blast of red light hit his shoulder, and he toppled to the ground, the break in his concentration dropping Harry headfirst onto the ground. Furious, the Gryffindorpicked himself up and launched a spell over the stands at thefive peoplewalking towards the pitch. A line of fire shot through the air and burned Ron and Neville.

"Leave me alone!" he screamed down to them in a rage, then immediately forgetting them in favour of seeing to Draco. He was frozen in place, as he had expected, his eyes staring up towards the crisp February sky. Harry lay his hand across the Slytherin's brow, and he loosened up straight away, leaping up from the ground.

"Idiots!" he raged. "Where are they?"

"I think I might have hurt Ron." Harry said in a worried tone, and Draco shook his head, delving through the Gryffindor's pockets.

"I think you had the right idea." He proclaimed as he pulled out the Invisibility Cloak, swinging it over both of them. "Not that I'd ever admit it in public, mind."

"You're so kind." Harry muttered absently as they picked there way through the seat and then down the steps inside the tower, to emerge at the bottom onto the grass where Hermione was busy healing Ron and Dean. They were covered in nasty looking burns, and visibly wincing.

"Malfoy must have him under some kind of spell. Either that, or he hit his head a bit hard when he fell." Seamus was saying as they approached. "We should have words with Malfoy. He can't just go around attacking Harry for no reason."

"He always used to." Ron grumbled, then yelped as Hermione prodded a burn on his chest.

"Please heal him." Harry whispered to Draco, who turned sharply under the Cloak to stare at him.

"Are you being serious?" he asked incredulously. "No, wait, I think you are. Why?"

"Because I shouldn't have done that. And besides, you can't leave Neville burnt like that. Just look at him! What did he ever do to you?"

"Apart from insult my intelligence by being associated with me? Nothing, I suppose." Draco muttered sardonically, more to himself than anyone else, and stepped out from beneath the Cloak. Dean shrieked.

"Get away!" Seamus yelped. "I'm armed!"

"Yes, I can see." Draco drawled, noting with some amusement that Seamus' wand hand was shaking.

"We saw what you were doing to Harry up there." Ron said in between flinches. "You could have hurt him!"

"No, I couldn't." Draco corrected pleasantly. "We had a minor disagreement. He wanted to hide from you, and I told him that he was being immature. I enforced the message by suspending him until he admitted that I was right. _Your_ spell was the one that caused me to drop him and injure him."

"Bullshit. We saw what happened."

"Well, regardless of what you saw, I am on orders to heal you, so Granger stop poking him like that, you're making it worse. Weasley, come here."

"You're not touching me!" Ron spat vehemently, inching away from the Slytherin. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"On your own head be it. Longbottom?"

"Don't do it, Neville!" Dean squeaked.

"I'm sorry, is there a mouse here?" Draco snapped sarcastically. "I won't ask again, Longbottom, no matter what your Saviour might want me to do."

"Yes please." Neville said nervously, much to the dismay of Ron and Seamus, who watched in terror as the nasty Slytherin knelt down beside the injured boy, no doubt hell-bent on blowing him to smithereens with that odd, white glow that was coming out of his hand and seeping into Neville's forehead…

"Thanks, Malfoy."

Hermione blinked.

"You Gryffindors are ridiculously untrusting. Almost like Slytherins." Draco said wickedly, and Ron pulled a face. "I must be off. And remember, it's your fault that you're still black and burned." He said cheerfully, as he strode away from the group. Only to be stopped by some unknown force, pause for a moment, and then be forcefully pushed back towards the Gryffindors.

"No!" he protested. "I already tried, it's not my job anymore! I've got problems of my own!"

He paused.

"I'll think of some." He said scathingly, then the invisible force pushed him into a rabbit hole and he fell over rather ungracefully.

"I'll get you for that." He muttered, righting himself.

"I think he's lost it." Dean whispered. "Hey Neville, I bet it's contagious…"

"I am not infected with anything!" Draco said indignantly. "I was simply requested to attempt the impossible again – that is, to heal Weasley."

"Who by, the wind?" Hermione snapped.

"No, by Potter." He said tiredly.

"Oh really. Well, why doesn't 'Potter' show himself?" Ron snarled.

"That's a very good question." Draco muttered, as he heard the Cloak swishing off behind him. The gathered Gryffindors gasped collectively.

"For God's sake, why won't you let him heal you?" Harry cried in an exasperated tone, hauling the Slytherin up off his arse. "He was only trying to help you!"

"When has he ever helped us before?" Ron growled, indicating with one hand towards Draco. The person in question sniffed disdainfully at the offending finger and inched away from it.

"That was in the past!" Harry said angrily, stepping half in front of Draco, as though he feared that the enraged Gryffindor might try and attack him again.

"It still counts!"

"I was all ready to forgive you for what you did to me!" Harry spat furiously. "But if you can't do the same, then I won't bother."

"What have I ever done to you, except be your friend?" Ron said in pure outrage. Harry blinked, then slowly turned to Hermione.

"He doesn't know?"

Hermione blushed and looked down at the ground.

"I thought he might work it out…" she mumbled, and Harry groaned.

"Like he could ever do that…"

"What do I not know?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Where I've been for the past six months." Harry snapped, and Dean frowned.

"But nobody knows… you were in hiding, we thought. How were we meant to know?"

"Go on, Hermione, tell them where I've been." Harry snarled, and Draco pulled him back slightly, should his anger get the best of him and do something that he wouldn't.

"Hermione…?"

The girl whispered something that nobody heard. That was probably how she meant it to be.

"Oh, don't come over all shy." Harry hissed, then turned to the others. "But fine, if she won't tell you… I've been right here, all along."

"What?"

Draco snorted at the completely bemused expression on Ron's face.

"Just look at me." Harry spat, and forced his face into the form that he had become accustomed to, the one with dark blue eyes and scarred eyes and pale skin. The glamour only remained for a few moments, but it was enough.

Draco caught his hand in his own.

"Who else knew?" Neville asked in a small voice. The others seemed too dumbstruck to speak.

"Lupin, Dumbledore, and Draco. And then later, Snape. That's all."

"Malfoy knew, and not us?" Ron suddenly broke out of his self-imposed silence. "You told _Malfoy_?"

"No, Draco found out accidentally. After which Dumbledore decided to be my Secret Keeper. Remember?" he said scathingly. "Your attempts to discover my connection with _myself_ were thwarted by that spell."

Ron gaped at him.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Neville said forlornly. "I had no idea."

"You have nothing to apologise for." Harry returned, a bit more sharply than he'd intended. "But I want a truce between us all. And I mean _all_ of us. You might not be able to get rid of your prejudices of Draco, but you can sure as well be civil to him."

Seamus snorted derisively, and Draco stepped out from behind Harry to regard him coldly.

"What's so funny about peace?"

Ron closed his mouth and looked down at the ground.

"That's fine by me." Dean said slowly. "Harry, I'm sorry about everything that I've done this year. And Malfoy, I won't go out of my way to annoy you."

"Likewise." Draco said wryly, with a nod to Dean, who breathed out a sigh of relief as though he'd not thought he would escape alive.

"I guess that apologising wouldn't really cover it, would it?" Seamus asked defeatedly, scratching at his neck. "But I'm sorry anyway."

"And I'll counter that by saying that you're a true Irish bastard. And then we'll leave it at that." Harry said cheerfully, and noted with some satisfaction that Seamus couldn't seem to work out whether his apology had been accepted or not.

"Weasley?"

Harry turned to face Ron at Draco's icy prompt, regarding him silently for a moment before releasing Draco's hand and shoving his own into his pockets.

"I had no idea, Ron." he said with a sigh, and Ron continued to yank the grass out of the ground. "You should have told me."

"It wouldn't have helped." Ron mumbled.

"You don't know that."

Harry was aware that Neville, Dean and Seamus were walking away, deep in conversation, but didn't care. He just wanted to get things sorted out with Ron.

"I'm sorry." Ron whispered, and Harry knelt down on the grass beside him.

"I know." He admitted, and looked up at Draco. The Slytherin bent down and laid his head gently on Ron's brow, pushing soft Life magic through the Gryffindor's body, healing the burnt skin.

"Thanks." The redhead said, almost reluctantly, as Draco seated himself on the grass beside his boyfriend, who had laid back on the grass, hands shielding bright eyes from the fierce winter sun.

"Oooh, we ought to record this day forever as the one where a Weasley thanked a Malfoy with sincerity…" Draco began sarcastically, but Harry reached out and smacked him in the stomach. Draco swore, and pushed Harry's head over, laying down beside him anyway.

"I don't think I'll ever quite understand how you two ended up friends." Hermione remarked, arranging her robes around herself as she settled more comfortably beside Ron.

"I'll never get how you put up with him, Harry." The redhead added, looking out across the lake, where the Giant Squid was apparently juggling fish.

"I don't. The real Draco Malfoy is locked in a broom cupboard on the fifth floor. This one's a fake."

"Obviously." Draco replied dryly, elbowing Harry gently in the side.

"Well, this is certainly interesting!"

The three boys turned around to Hermione, who was, rather predictably, buried in a pile of books. Where she had procured them from was mildly puzzling.

"What's interesting?" Harry asked curiously, turning onto his front so that he didn't have to crane his neck to see her.

"Your name… Antares, I mean… I don't suppose you know what it actually is, do you?"

"Er… no." Harry said bluntly. "Though Dumbledore did seem to think that it had some significance, when I chose it. I don't even know why I thought of it, to be honest."

Well then, you might like to know that it is actually the name of a star. One of the stars directly opposite Canis Major, in fact."

"Why is that relevant?" Harry asked, whilst pulling a face.

"Oh my goodness, I do hope that you're not being serious." Draco said, astounded, crawling at quite a speed toward Hermione and peering over her shoulder at the book. She was staring at him.

"You do realise what you just said, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately, I spoke without thinking, and yes I agree it was a rather terrible pun."

"What are you two going on about?" Ron asked, bemused, and Harry had to admit that he had no better idea that his friend.

"Do neither of you know the name of our brightest star?" Draco asked incredulously, as Hermione scanned the book again at lightning speed.

"I'll recognise the name if you say it." Harry said hopefully, and Draco raised an eyebrow.

"I doubt it. But anyway. It's Sirius."

Harry blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh, you don't get it, do you?" Draco said in a decidedly exasperated voice, sitting down heavily. "Your bloody godfather was named Sirius after the brightest star in the galaxy. A star that, coincidentally, shines brightest around the end of July and start of August, when Harry was born. It happens that one of the stars on the opposite side of the sky is called Antares, which you rather suspiciously chose as your name apparently without reason. That's what you call ineffability."

"Well, now that's cleared up…" Ron said in a bored tone. "What are you guys planning on doing now that the plan's failed?"

"Oh, I don't know." Harry said happily as Draco came back to lie next to him. "It feels weird to not have anything to worry about, for a time. But I suppose Voldemort's summons can't be ignored forever."

"Indeed." Draco remarked as the snow started to fall. "Let's have a war."

"No, not just yet. It's not the summer yet." Harry pointed out.

"Oh yes, the whole Summer Attack theory. I forgot." The Slytherin shot back sarcastically.

"We ought to go back up to the school, otherwise we'll be snowed out." Hermione suggested, and they all silently acquiesced, walking back up to the main school in companionable quiet. As they passed the great hourglasses in the Entrance Hall, a thought suddenly occurred to Harry.

"Hey, what was the outcome of the Quidditch match? We never found out."

Ron immediately went red and stared resolutely at the ground.

"Slytherin won." Hermione said matter-of-factly as they strode up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. "Malfoy caught the Snitch just milliseconds before you did, Harry."

"You're kidding." Harry said bluntly, searching her face for any sign of a joke, whilst noticing that Draco was grinning out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm afraid not." She said, completely without remorse. "Malfoy beat you at Quidditch."

Harry turned to Draco, aghast. They stared at each other for a moment, Draco quite obviously working hard to keep a straight face. He failed miserably, and collapsed into giggles.

"Oh, that is the best news I've heard all day!" he exclaimed, tears of laughter streaking down his face as Ron said the password for the Fat Lady. "That's brilliant! I BEAT HARRY POTTER AT QUIDDITCH!"

Silence met Draco as he stepped through the portrait hole, not really thinking about what he might encounter on the other side. He certainly hadn't considered the possibility of many angry, red-face Gryffindors ready to pounce. Indeed, he didn't even notice their hostile stances until one pulled his wand.

"I suggest you run." Harry said cheerfully to the unfortunate Slytherin, who immediately followed his advice and sprinted back out of the common room, a bunch of irritated Gryffindors hot on his trail. Hermione watched after them anxiously.

"Will he be all right?"

"He'll be fine." Ron said, waving away the sentiment. "Come and give me a game of chess, Harry." He said, walking over to where an abandoned game lay on the table in front of the fireplace. Harry turned to him, grinning.

"Don't go anywhere." He said, his eyes shining. "I'll be right back."

With that, he sprinted back out of the Tower and after both his boyfriend and the horde of rampaging Gryffindors.

The sun began to set outside the window.

* * *

Eeeeeeeeeeeee! Ahem... no, I did not get excited as I finished that at all... 

Thank you very much for reading this lot, I do hope you enjoyed it, and I'm looking forward to sorting out the Epilogue in August. Remeber though, the actual story is now finished. Anyone who, for whatever obscure reason, would like to continue it can feel free too, provided they warn me first.

I will also be amused if anyone realised what album I was listening to as I wrote this. It's quite obvious if you know the songs.

Comments extremely welcome and unduly appreciated.

Warmest regards,

smokey


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